


Life's Dearest Bands Untwining

by FagurFiskur



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and Spock are on an away mission gone wrong and Spock is grievously injured. Kirk finds himself making a bargain with strange aliens for Spock's life. The price? Spock's love for his bondmate. Kirk makes the trade without a moment's hesitation, but the fallout is not so easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2011. Beta read by jademac2442.
> 
> Bluebluebonnet has translated this story into Chinese! Can be found [here](http://www.mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=90252)  
> and [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5792527/chapters/13350718)!  
> 

_O why should Fate sic pleasure have,  
Life's dearest bands untwining?   
Or why sae sweet a flower as love   
Depend on Fortune's shining? _  
  
\- Robert Burns, 1793  
  
\----  
  
 **Part 1**  
  
To be completely honest, Kirk had been waiting for something like this to happen. Maybe not  _exactly_ this but something that would screw everything up. His life was just too good for it to last.   
  
First off, there was the whole becoming Captain and getting his own ship. And not just any ship, but the freaking _Enterprise_ , a ship he’d been having borderline wet-dreams about for years, ever since they first started building her in the Riverside shipyard.   
  
Of course it hadn’t been easy at first. He was completely inexperienced and he had a long way to go to earn the respect of all his crew members, let alone the rest of the Federation. But by the end of the first five year mission not only did he have that, he had the most loyal, most talented crew in the fleet in his service. He had friends.   
  
He had a family.   
  
Bones, Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov…   
  
Spock.   
  
Kirk still had a hard time believing it. After six years of an admittedly stormy friendship, after four years of being in the first committed relationship of his life, after nearly ten months of being  _bonded_ , he still couldn’t believe that out of all the people in the universe, Spock had gone and fallen in love with him.   
  
The past six years had been the happiest of Kirk’s life. And even though his life wasn’t perfect (he and Spock did still argue about the stupidest things and he still wasn’t on comfortable terms with his mother or Sam) it was as close as Kirk could ever have asked for.   
  
And now it was all going to be torn away from him.   
  
All because of one stupid mission.   
  
Kirk lay by himself in the bed in their quarters, his face buried in Spock’s pillow, and it was all he could do not to break down. His bondmate was in surgery, fighting for his life. Even if he did survive (and that was a pretty big if), their lives and their relationship had been irrevocably changed.   
  
***   
  
 _Captain’s Log, Stardate 2712.4  
  
Having just received orders from Starfleet headquarters, we are on our way to Decos Vau, a planet near the edge of Federation space devoid of sentient life. We are to examine it and determine whether it is a viable location for a Federation base. The away team will consist of myself, Mr. Spock, and Lieutenants Fredericks and Hahnemann. _  
  
Spock was ignoring him.   
  
Not that Kirk could really blame him. This was a purely scientific mission, no need for the Captain to be included, but he had insisted on joining them anyway. Spock didn’t much like it when he waved regulations like this, especially not when it came to away missions. He worried, Kirk knew, even though he wouldn’t show it.   
  
But it had been almost two months since he was last needed on an away mission and if Kirk had to stay cooped up on that ship much longer he would go mad. Not that he didn’t love his lady, but there was a limit to how much time a man was willing to spend stuck on board a spaceship (aside from Scotty, who would probably never leave the engine room if given the opportunity).   
  
And it wasn’t as if it was a particularly dangerous away mission. There were no animals on this planet, nor anything else that might harm them, so Spock was completely overreacting.   
  
Kirk didn’t want to tell him that though.   
  
Instead of pushing his luck with his irritated bondmate, Kirk wandered over to where Lieutenant Fredericks was taking some geological scans.   
  
“Everything in order, Lieutenant?” He asked, just for the sake of having something to say. He didn’t expect it not to be, the whole mission was mostly a formality anyway.   
  
Fredericks barely glanced up from his tricorder. “Yes sir. Nothing unexpected has turned up, I should be able to wrap this up in the next five minutes. This looks like stable enough ground to build a base on.”   
  
He had no sooner finished speaking, than a suspicious, loud crack sounded from under them and small gaps began to appear in the earth.   
  
“You were saying?” Kirk said wryly.   
  
Fredericks frowned and squinted at his tricorder. “I don’t understand it. My scanner’s read a solid ground below us, going down at least 400 meters-”   
  
“Well, then the scanner is wrong,” Kirk cut in. “We can finish the examination later. Mr. Spock, Lieutenant Hahnemann!” He called. “We’re beaming out of here.”   
  
He grabbed his communicator, careful not to make any big movements. He felt more than saw Spock walk up to him and another crack formed on the ground. Hahnemann appeared over the hill and Kirk held up his arm to stop him from coming closer. Scotty could pick his signal up from there, Kirk didn’t think the ground could take any more weight.   
  
“Kirk to  _Enterprise_.”   
  
Static.   
  
Kirk frowned. “Kirk to  _Enterprise_ , four to beam up.”   
  
No answer.   
  
“There’s no connection, sir,” Fredericks pointed out needlessly. Kirk swore.   
  
“We should move to a more solid ground,” Spock suggested as more cracks formed underneath them. “Carefully.”   
  
“Right,” Kirk said grimly. He took a cautious step forward, only to nearly fall down as the earth literally collapsed from underneath him. Only Spock’s hand on his arm kept him standing. “What now?”   
  
“Jack!” Fredericks shouted and Kirk looked up just in time to see Lieutenant Hahnemann disappear into the earth. The ground rumbled forebodingly.   
  
“Stay where you are, Lieutenant,” Kirk commanded shakily, but Fredericks paid him no mind. The young man sprinted forward, and in the next moment he fell into the ground after his coworker with an almost comical yell.   
  
“Jim,” Spock said quietly. “Hold onto me.”   
  
“What?”   
  
The earth rumbled again and suddenly Kirk was in freefall, plunging into the darkness below. He reached for Spock, who grabbed tightly onto him and turned so he was below Kirk.   
  
“No! What are you-”   
  
He was cut short as his whole body lurched painfully. They had landed, Spock having strategically placed himself underneath his Captain to soften his landing.   
  
“Spock?” Kirk whispered, the wind momentarily knocked from his lungs. “Spock, are you okay?”   
  
He clumsily rolled off of his bondmate, his entire body aching. He did a quick assessment of his injuries in his mind, concluding that at most he had a couple of broken ribs (definitely at least one, judging by the painful flares in his chest every time he drew a breath). Spock had to be worse off though, he had after all been the one to take most of the impact.   
  
Kirk fumbled for his palm beacon, while feeling for a heart beat with his other hand. His hand met something wet and warm, and Kirk had to stop moving momentarily as a wave of nausea overtook him. He could never stand to see Spock bleed, the Vulcan always seemed so indestructible and Kirk hated to be reminded that he could be hurt too.   
  
He finally found the beacon almost at the same time as he detected a faint pulse, going fast for a human heart but slow for a Vulcan one. His skin was also alarmingly cold but that was supposed to be natural for Vulcans Kirk reminded himself.   
  
Turning on the light, Kirk did his best to go over Spock’s injuries in a detached manner. The blood, as it turned out, was from a head injury but the cut seemed shallow. His right leg was also bent at an odd angle but Kirk couldn’t see any bones jutting out so he counted that as a win too. There was no telling the internal damage, though, and judging by the weakening pulse, there had to be some. A quick glance upwards revealed that they had fallen down at least ten meters.   
  
“Spock, wake up,” Kirk said and slapped the Vulcan softly on the face. No reaction. He swallowed and forced down his sneaking feeling of dread, turning the palm beacon away from Spock’s unconscious body to search for his other crewmembers.   
  
He cringed when he spotted the two lieutenants some meters away, both their bodies crushed by stray boulders. He allowed himself a moment of sorrow, before turning back to Spock. There would be time to grieve later, when no one’s life was in danger.   
  
He whipped up his communicator again and tried in vain to contact the  _Enterprise_. Then he felt for Spock’s pulse again, still fading. His breathing was slowing too, soon he would be completely still in Kirk’s arms.   
  
Kirk had never felt so helpless in his life. Of all the ways he’d imagined it would end (and he had imagined it, over and over, in a sort of self-punishment he was all too used to) this was by far what he had feared most. Spock was fading fast and for once in his life, Kirk had no backup plan, no last-minute miracle up his sleeve. He was well and truly powerless.   
  
He held Spock closer to him and focused on the bond in his mind, flickering away slowly. He took a shaky breath, not even trying to hold back the tears anymore.   
  
“It seems we were unsuccessful.”   
  
Kirk froze and looked up, unable to believe his eyes. Two tall humanoids stood before him, calm, disdainful expressions on their faces. Their skin and eyes were pale, almost translucent and they glowed oddly in the dark but otherwise they looked almost human.  
  
Wasn’t this planet supposed to be devoid of sentient life?   
  
“Indeed,” said the one to the left. “These two live. But not for much longer.”   
  
Kirk gaped. “What? You- you caused this?”   
  
The one on the right inclined his head. “We did. We are not fond of parasites invading our planet.”   
  
“We didn’t know,” Kirk whispered. “We thought the planet was uninhabited.”   
  
“Then you thought wrong. It is not our fault.”   
  
“You could have laid some sort of claim to the planet,” Kirk argued. “Contacted the Federation, or put some sort of sign up. You didn’t need to- you didn’t need to  _kill my crew_  to get the message across.”   
  
“You regret their deaths?” The one on the left asked.   
  
“Of course I do!” Kirk exclaimed.   
  
“And the Vulcan?” The one on the right prodded. “If he were to die, you would regret his death too?”   
  
Kirk’s heart clenched at the thought. “Yes, I would.”   
  
The two beings shared a short glance. “Interesting. We were made to believe that humans are selfish creatures.”   
  
Kirk shrugged weakly. “We can be. Sometimes. But we care about our comrades.”   
  
“Interesting,” the one on the left repeated.   
  
They looked at each other for a long time, and Kirk got the feeling they were communicating. Finally, the one on the right looked back at him.   
  
“We will let you live,” he told Kirk. “As long as you leave our planet, and never come back.”   
  
“We promise,” Kirk said hurriedly, relief flooding his body.   
  
The one on the left nodded. “We will be expecting payment, of course.”   
  
“Payment?” Kirk said dumbly.  _After killing two of my men and grievously injuring another_ , he wanted to add but refrained. Spock’s life was at their mercy.   
  
“You have treaded upon our land,” the one on the right said. “We demand compensation.”   
  
“Sure,” Kirk agreed through gritted teeth. He couldn’t believe their audacity. “Whatever you want.”   
  
“You have nothing we could want,” the one on the left said disdainfully. “Your Vulcan crewmate on the other hand…” He trailed off meaningfully.   
  
“What do you want from him?”   
  
“Vulcans have an intriguing sort of telepathy,” the one on the right said. “If we had it as well, we could certainly utilize it.”   
  
Kirk bit his lip. They might just as well have asked for Spock’s eyes, or his ears. “Is there anything else you’d take instead?”   
  
The two beings shared a look again.   
  
“He is  _telsu_ ,” the one on the right stated.   
  
“He is,” Kirk confirmed. “You want his bond?”   
  
The one on the left shook his head. “We want what drives it. We want his love for his bondmate.”   
  
Kirk swallowed heavily.   
  
“Such emotion as we feel from him, even unconscious, is rare indeed,” the being continued. “While most species’ feelings are fickle and weak, human emotions included, Vulcans are unique. Their emotions, though hidden and controlled, are powerful, beautiful once distorted into visible form. We have only had the pleasure of glancing at such beauty before but to be in possession of it… that would be the greatest honor of all.”  
  
“So, you either want his telepathy,” Kirk said slowly, “or his love for his bondmate.”   
  
The one on the right nodded. “Neither of you has anything else we desire.”   
  
Kirk couldn’t even pretend that it was a difficult decision. He had always had a habit of putting others before himself, especially the people he loved. McCoy hated it. While taking away Spock’s telepathy would be akin to taking away his eyesight, taking away his love for Kirk wouldn’t really hurt him. Spock would hardly miss Kirk once all trace of his love for him was gone.   
  
His decision made, Kirk nodded. “You can have it. His love for his bondmate. Just please, let him live.”   
  
The one on the left raised his arm, but the other one grabbed it. “It is not a decision to be taken lightly. Once removed, his love will never return. He will never again feel affection, nor compassion, nor desire for his bondmate. Most likely, they will never be able to become friends again.”   
  
Kirk got the impression the alien realized who the bondmate was, but he didn’t comment on it. “I don’t care. Help him, before he dies.”   
  
The one on the left raised his arm again and waved it grandly, and instantly Kirk could feel the familiar tingle of the transporter as his surroundings fainted into white light.   
  
“You have one week, before we collect our debt,” the aliens called after them and then, Kirk and Spock were back onboard the  _Enterprise_. Sickbay, more specifically. McCoy, who seemed to have been pacing around the room, froze as soon as he spotted them.   
  
“Good God,” he exclaimed.  
  
“Help him,” Kirk commanded, pushing everything out of his mind except Spock’s safety.   
  
“M’Benga, get your ass in here,” McCoy shouted as he rushed to Spock’s side. “Coffee break’s over.”   
  
Soon the room was swarmed with medical personnel. Spock was heaved onto a gurney and into operation, while two nurses carefully led Kirk to a bed for a medical examination. He silently did as told, the events of the past hour running through his mind on a constant loop. The away mission had been a disaster. He’d lost two crewmembers, Spock had been critically injured  _trying to save him_  and he’d sold away Spock’s emotions in exchange for his life.   
  
He felt like he should probably be more upset than he was, but all he could muster was a numb, distant kind of sadness. Shock, McCoy would say. It wasn’t until hours later, when Kirk was lying in the bed in their shared quarters, his face buried in Spock’s pillow, that it finally hit him.   
  
His bondmate was in surgery, fighting for his life. Even if he did survive (and that was a pretty big if), their lives and their relationship had been irrevocably changed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**  
  
Life on the  _Enterprise_ had been bleak for the past three days. Most of the crew was mourning the loss of Lieutenants Fredericks and Hahnemann, as well as grimly wondering when and if Commander Spock would wake up. According to M’Benga he was simply in a healing trance, but with their track record, no one dared to hope for the best.   
  
Kirk especially withdrew into himself. After filling a long and detailed report on the events on Decos Vau (excluding, of course, how he got the aliens to let them back on the  _Enterprise_ ), he started to spend more and more time on the bridge, taking double and even triple shifts whenever he could get away with it. When not on shift, he would hole himself up in his room and go through mountains of unimportant paperwork more fit for a yeoman than a captain.  
  
He was disgusted with himself. When his relationship with Spock had first started, he’d promised himself not to let it affect his work. He never had in the past but then again, Spock had never been in a coma before.  
  
He felt so pathetically codependent, he had half a mind to resign.  
  
“Don’t be an idiot,” McCoy told him. He’d dragged the young Captain with him to dinner, after finding out that Kirk had been skipping meals as well as sleep. “It’s that damn Vulcan voodoo in your brain acting up. You’ll get used to it in a couple of days, if Spock doesn’t wake up first.” He didn’t sound particularly optimistic.  
  
Kirk didn’t reply, just continued to push the food on his dish around mournfully. McCoy sighed.  
  
“Do you want to visit him?”   
  
“No.” Kirk felt even more terrible about that than anything else but he couldn’t stand being around Spock’s sleeping body. The bond in his mind ached being in such close proximity to his mate, yet unable to reach him.  
  
“At least eat something,” McCoy commanded. “I will putt you on enforced leave if needed.”  
  
“You wouldn’t!”  
  
“Try me.”  
  
Kirk glared at his friend but picked up his knife and stubbornly cut up his steak in tiny little pieces. He then ate them one at a time, carefully chewing each one exactly twenty times with slow, exaggerated movements.   
  
McCoy rolled his eyes. “Brat.”  
  
“Old codger.”  
  
“Why you-”  
  
Suddenly Kirk dropped his knife, just as McCoy communicator chirped.  
  
“McCoy here,” the Doctor responded quickly, glancing worriedly at his friend.  
  
“He’s awake,” Kirk and Chapel said in unison.  
  
***  
  
It took two hours of medical checks and examinations before Kirk was allowed to enter Sickbay. Spock’s bed was surrounded by a white curtain (probably courtesy of McCoy, bless his soft, codgery old heart), giving the two of them privacy.  
  
Kirk didn’t know what to expect when he drew the curtain but he was relieved to see Spock sitting in his bed, his skin a healthy green shade and his eyes warm as ever as they came to rest on Kirk.  
  
“Spock,” he breathed and tackled his bondmate with all the enthusiasm he dared. Spock squeezed him back almost painfully tight.  
  
“Ni'droi'ik nar-tor, ashayam,” he murmured into the crook of Kirk’s neck, so softly Kirk almost didn’t catch it. “I am sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be,” Kirk replied. “You’re awake now, that’s all that matters.”  
  
But it wasn’t. Kirk’s hands roamed Spock’s back, digging into the soft material of his robe, his nose resting on the top of Spock’s shiny black cap and taking in that warm, musky scent he’d missed so, and all he could think was ‘ _will I be able to touch Spock like this in four days?_ ’.  
  
“You are unsettled.”  
  
Kirk inwardly cursed Spock’s perception as he reluctantly let go off him. “I’m fine.” He smiled faintly. “I’m just tired, that’s all. It’s been a long three days.”  
  
While he wanted nothing more than to tell Spock everything that had happened on that planet, Kirk couldn’t find it in him to drop something like that on the Vulcan when he had just woken up from a coma. He’d find out in four days anyway, right? Kirk already had this hanging over him, there was no reason to subject Spock to it as well.  
  
Spock’s silence showed that he didn’t believe Kirk, but didn’t want to cause an argument between them so soon after he’d woken up.   
  
“Are you hungry?” Kirk asked, desperate to find another subject. Spock nodded and he tried to smile again but he had the feeling he wasn’t particularly successful, judging by the worried expression that crossed Spock’s face. “Great, me too. How does plomeek soup sound?”  
  
***  
  
Spock could not help but wonder whether he had done something wrong. He knew Jim didn’t like it when he risked his own safety to defend his Captain’s (even though it was his duty as First Officer) but he had never had any problems expressing that before. Even in anger, Jim always remained close to him.  
  
But he was distant now. Not physically, in fact he had taken to touching Spock more than ever before and he might even be called clingy. Not emotionally either, Spock had indeed never heard Jim express his love so often out loud in such a short period of time. But mentally… he withdrew from Spock’s mind. While there was nothing technically stopping Spock from reaching out through the bond and try to find out what was wrong, he felt that Jim did not want him to. And Spock had sworn to himself that he would never take advantage of Jim’s weaker mental defenses.  
  
He did try to talk to Jim about it but every time he brought it up, the Captain managed to change the subject. McCoy, likewise, tiptoed around the subject but Spock had the suspicion that it had more to do with not wanting to get involved rather than because he actually knew anything. No one else on the crew seemed to even notice the change in their Captain, which was to be expected. On the surface, Jim and Spock still appeared the same as ever. All this only meant that Spock had no way of getting his answers in a morally sound way.  
  
It would have been infuriating, if not for the fact that Jim seemed so unbearably vulnerable as of late. Spock could not bring himself to be angry at his bondmate when he felt like the only thing standing between the young Captain and complete emotional destruction.  
  
It was not until the fourth day after Spock woke up that Jim breached the subject with him.  
  
The Captain had been unusually quiet and pensive that day, and there was a desperation to his words and touch that Spock did not like in the least. More than ever he was convinced that Jim was hiding something significant.  
  
They went to their quarters after their shift and as soon as the doors slid shut, Jim’s lips were on Spock’s. It was a frantic, emotionally laden kiss and before Spock could discern all that lay behind it (love, affection, sadness… hurt?), Jim had pulled away.  
  
“I need to talk to you,” he said quietly, his voice as loaded with distressing emotion as his kiss. He motioned for Spock to take a seat.  
  
Spock obediently sat down on their bed and Jim followed, careful not to sit too close.  
  
“Something happened,” Jim began, “down on Decos Vau. When you were unconscious. And I – I can’t tell you about it but soon, really soon, you’ll understand. I’m telling you this now, because I need you to know that no matter what happens, it’s my fault, okay? You’re not to blame for any of it.”  
  
“Any of what?” Spock asked.  
  
Jim shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”  
  
Spock reached for Jim’s hand. Jim flinched and drew his hand to his body, averting his eyes to the floor.  
  
“You are lying to me,” Spock stated.  
  
Jim shook his head again. “I’m not.” He sounded defeated.  
  
“Jim.” Spock reached for Jim’s hand again, and this time Jim let him. “If you do not want me to, I will not pry. But you must know that you can trust me.”  
  
“It’s not about trust,” Jim said. “You know I trust you, I probably wouldn’t be alive if I didn’t. It’s… I can’t…”  
  
Spock leaned closer to his mate and rested his forehead against Jim’s. “ _T’hy’la_. You saved my life on Decos Vau. I do not know what else happened there, what sin you could possibly have committed, that it makes you feel so guilty, but I assure you that I forgive you for it. If I am not to blame then neither are you.”  
  
He kissed Jim’s forehead softly.  
  
“Spock?” Jim muttered, his voice shaking slightly as if holding back tears. “Do me a favor?”  
  
“Anything, ashayam.”  
  
“Tell me you love me?”  
  
His voice sounded so small and unsure, so very vulnerable. It was a sound Spock had not heard in years. The Vulcan held his bondmate closer and he felt as if he were cradling porcelain. He knew he was wrong, of course, Jim Kirk had been through much in his life and he had never let any of that break him. But that did not lessen his need to assure him.  
  
“I love you,” Spock murmured into golden locks. An admission once so difficult to utter, now flowed freely from his lips. He kissed Jim’s small, rounded ear. “I love you.” He kissed his cheek, wet with tears. “I love you.” He kissed his eyelid, shuddering softly beneath his lips. “I love you.”  
  
Their lips met in a heated kiss, passionate but not frantic. Jim’s hands came to rest on Spock’s hips, lifting his shirt just slightly and playing with hard, jutting hipbones. Spock’s right hand tangled in Jim’s already messy hair, while his left came to rest on Jim’s.   
  
Then they were horizontal on the bed, Jim straddling Spock and working on divesting him off his shirt. Spock raised his arms in compliance and Jim quickly tore off both his science blue shirt and the black undershirt beneath in one movement. His hands roamed the pale expanse of Spock’s chest, shoulders and stomach, memorizing every twitch of his muscle and every inch of his skin. His movements were careful, as if he were afraid Spock could disappear at any moment.   
  
Spock broke the kiss and trailed soft, wet kisses down Jim’s neck, biting occasionally to taste salty skin. His hands rested on Jim’s waist, pulling him closer. They both moved at a leisurely speed, the kind that showed they had all night to explore each other’s body.  
  
Hours later they laid to rest, wrapped up in each other with nothing between them but warmth. Spock rested his head in the nook of Jim’s shoulder, determined to figure out the truth in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**  
  
Kirk woke up feeling inexplicably panicked. The feeling faded as soon as his eyes opened but it left him shivering in its wake, taking deep, shaky breaths to calm himself down. He turned on his other side and saw that Spock had gotten out of bed and was standing in the middle of their room, his back turned.  
  
Kirk sat up as his stomach dropped with a sudden realization. The panic he felt hadn’t been his own, it had been Spock’s. And the reason behind it…  
  
Oh.  
  
“What has happened to me?” Spock asked quietly, still not facing Kirk.   
  
“I-” Kirk’s mouth dried. He had no idea what to say. “I’m sorry,” he settled on.  
  
Spock turned and though his face was expressionless, Kirk flinched at the accusation in his eyes. “You knew this would happen.” It wasn’t a question. “Please then, inform me of why I awoke to find-” his voiced hitched, as if the words were painful to say “-to find half of my soul missing.”  
  
Kirk desperately reached for Spock’s mind through their bond, wanting to comfort him. He was blocked.   
  
“I had to do it,” he said softly, trying not to let his own pain at being rejected show. “You’ve read my report on our mission on Decos Vau. Didn’t you wonder why the aliens let us live?”  
  
“I had assumed you convinced them to,” Spock said simply.   
  
Kirk shook his head. “I mean, I did,” he said. “But I had to bargain with them. They wanted… your love for your bondmate. In exchange for our lives. At that point you were sort of dying, so I didn’t see any other option.”   
  
Spock was quiet as he took the words in. “And they wanted nothing else instead?” He finally asked.  
  
“No, nothing,” Kirk lied without hesitation.  
  
He risked a glance up when Spock didn’t respond. The Vulcan had his eyes closed and a searching expression on his face. Kirk wished he could know what he was thinking but Spock’s mental shields were still blocking him.   
  
“I must meditate,” Spock muttered. He didn’t add  _in private_  but it was clearly implied.   
  
Kirk reluctantly got up and got dressed. Spock stayed quiet while the Captain quickly went through his morning routine and silently left their quarters.  
  
Kirk staggered a bit as he walked out into the hallway. He wanted to collapse into the nearest corner and bawl like a baby but he refused to let his emotions get the better of him again. His shift started in a couple of hours and until then he could do some paperwork. He wouldn’t break down, he  _couldn’t_ let himself, not when he had a whole ship to command.  
  
Time to lose himself in work again.  
  
***  
  
The bond shone in Spock’s mind, bright and unwavering as ever, fuelled by Jim’s limitless love and surprising mental strength. He could only imagine what it must look like from Jim’s side now.  
  
Focusing on other aspects of his mind, there was undeniably something missing. Spock could recall with perfect clarity the way his mindscape had felt like just the day before, every corner infiltrated with a kind of warmth and affection Spock had only allowed himself to feel in recent years and only for one person.   
  
It was gone now. The mind that lay before Spock was as complex and brilliant as ever but it was also cold and barren in comparison to the previous day. No matter how he searched, Spock could find no trace left behind of the love he had once felt. It was as if it had been torn out by the roots or as if it had never existed at all.  
  
It should not be possible. Feelings could not disappear into thin air, not like this, not with the memory of them still left behind. Surely they must be hiding somewhere.  
  
Spock focused once again on the bond and he reached through it for Jim’s warm, welcoming mind. As he felt himself surrounded by his Captain’s thoughts and emotions, it was like a confirmation to a terrible fact he had already suspected. He felt nothing for Jim. Where there should be love, there was nothing but cold, distant apathy.  
  
***  
  
“You’re up early.”  
  
Kirk looked up from his breakfast (consisting of one cup of strong coffee and nothing else). McCoy stood there, eyebrow raised disapprovingly. Or at least Kirk thought it was disapprovingly. It might have been disbelieving.  
  
“Couldn’t sleep,” Kirk muttered.  
  
McCoy sat down and brought his cup to his lips. “Relationship troubles?”   
  
Kirk shrugged. “I think we’re breaking up.”  
  
He instantly regretted voicing his thoughts out loud, as McCoy’s eyes widened and he choked on his coffee.  
  
“You- what!?” McCoy managed in between coughs.   
  
Kirk averted his eyes. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”  
  
“Like hell I will.” McCoy put his coffee down, again fully composed. “You two are  _bonded_. As in, for life. What’s this talk about breaking up? You’re not getting cold feet now, are you?”  
  
Kirk smiled sadly. Cold feet. If only. “It’s nothing, Bones, just drop it.”  
  
“You can’t say something like that and expect me to just drop it, Jim,” McCoy said angrily. “What the hell happened and do I need to go kick some hobgoblin ass?”  
  
Kirk wanted to point out that McCoy couldn’t kick Spock’s ass even if he wanted to but decided that it probably wouldn’t go too well over with the Doctor. “No one’s done anything wrong,” he settled on, “least of all Spock. It’s my relationship troubles and I’ll sort through them myself.”  
  
McCoy looked like he wanted to continue pressing Kirk for information, so the young Captain swiftly stood up.  
  
“Where are you going?” McCoy asked. “Your shift doesn’t start for another hour.”  
  
“I have some paperwork,” Kirk said offhandedly. “Might as well do it now.”  
  
As he was leaving the mess, he felt the intangible wall between his mind and Spock’s lift again. The separation had been almost physically painful and so Kirk was relieved that it was over. For a few moments he let the familiar presence of Spock’s mind wash over him, before he noticed that something was off.  
  
The realization hit him hard. He had already heard the words, but the true implication hadn’t managed to quite settle in. Now though, faced with Spock’s own emotions straight from the source, Kirk had no choice but to acknowledge the truth. Spock was no longer in love with him and he never would be again.  
  
“Jim?”  
  
Kirk barely registered his friend’s concerned voice as he bolted out of the mess, more determined than ever to keep his emotions under control.  
  
***  
  
The air on the bridge was awkward as all hell. For a crew that usually worked together with such ease and familiarity it was almost painful. They had no idea how to react when the Captain and First Officer not only arrived on the bridge separately but failed to acknowledge each other with anything more than a professional greeting. All throughout the shift they did not speak to or look at each other except when absolutely necessary.   
  
Nyota glanced around at her fellow crewmembers. Spock was diligently at work as always but there was a distance and restlessness to him Nyota hadn’t seen in a while. She turned accusing eyes to the Captain but quickly decided that he probably wasn’t to blame for whatever was going on. He didn’t exhibit any telltale signs of guilt (frequent glances at Spock, gnawing at his lip and nails, bouncing his leg), he just looked miserable. Sure, it was buried beneath a cool, professional façade but Nyota had known him long enough to know when he was bluffing.  
  
Helpless, she turned to Sulu and Chekov at the helm but they looked as confused as she did. Clearly they had no knowledge of the situation.   
  
Just what was going on?  
  
***  
  
Spock did not usually spend his time on useless endeavors. There was simply too much one could be doing with one’s time to waste it on the irrelevant. Which was why he was so very annoyed with himself as he came to a stop on front of the Captain and his quarters and realized that he had just spent the thirty four minutes and seventeen seconds since his shift ended wandering aimlessly around the ship’s corridors, pondering something he had already made up his mind about.  
  
It was not the first time he had caught himself stalling the inevitable but this was a particularly irking case as he had not been doing something productive while procrastinating. In all honesty, he probably couldn’t have if he tried. Spock had not been able to concentrate all day, the morning’s events laying too heavily on his mind.  
  
He was aware of his emotions, in a way he had never quite been when he still had them. Thinking of them for too long left him aching from their absence but focusing on the bond helped chase the feeling away. Spock knew he was selfish for it but he found that even though he didn’t love Jim, he still wanted to remain bonded to him. Their mental compatibility was too great, Spock doubted he would be able to bond successfully with another. What had always been a blessing seemed now like a curse.  
  
He couldn’t ask Jim to stay bonded to him. Perhaps the love he once felt could be regained (though Jim had told him the aliens had specifically stated it couldn’t) but until then Spock could not force Jim to be connected to him in such a way. It would not be ethical.  
  
He knew what he must do, had known since this morning, and now all Spock had to do was enter their quarters and tell Jim of his decision.  
  
***  
  
Kirk was slumped against the wall, the very picture of a man defeated, when the doors slid open and Spock walked into their quarters. Kirk ducked his head to hide his dejected expression. He knew exactly why Spock was here.  
  
“Capt- Jim,” Spock began. Off to a good start. “We must discuss our situation.”  
  
Kirk nodded miserably.  
  
“I think it best we keep our distance for now,” Spock said. “I am… uncertain of my emotions. What I feel and what I am capable of feeling. I do not wish for this to affect you any more than it already has.”  
  
Kirk laughed hoarsely and raised his head, looking Spock in the eyes. “How could it not? I’m in love with you, even though- even though it isn’t mutual anymore. And we’re bonded, in case you forgot.”  
  
Spock inclined his head, looking somewhat reluctant. “That is why I suggest we break our bond.”  
  
“No!” The protest was out before Kirk could stop it. Spock couldn’t… how could he say that? Logically, Kirk knew that Spock had no reason to want to stay bonded. But that didn’t mean he had to accept it.   
  
“It is for your benefit,” Spock countered. “I do not intend to tie you down.”  
  
“You really expect me to able to move on so quickly?” Kirk asked.  
  
Spock hesitated. “No,” he admitted. “But, nevertheless-”  
  
“Please let me keep it,” Kirk interrupted. “Just for a few days.” He knew he was being slightly pathetic but he didn’t care. He was about to lose everything he loved the most, dignity could take a backseat. “You may not need it, but I still do. I can’t lose it, too.”  
  
Spock pursed his lips softly. “You would be able to feel my presence, Jim, my emotions. You know this. Are you certain it is what you want?”  
  
Kirk nodded. “Please.”   
  
“Very well,” Spock said. “But our relationship will otherwise be over.”  
  
“I know,” Kirk agreed reluctantly. After all, he couldn’t force Spock to stay with him.  
  
“I will be staying in temporary quarters tonight,” Spock informed him. “Tomorrow, I will remove my belongings from this room.”  
  
Kirk nodded again, half numb in disbelief over the whole situation. He barely noticed it when Spock left, too caught up in his own thoughts. Spock was moving out.  
  
Their relationship was over.   
  
The strongest, most dependable thing Kirk had ever known and it was over. It just seemed so unfair. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, they were supposed to have the rest of their lives, however short or long.  
  
Kirk slowly laid himself down on his side, not even bothering to take off uniform. He buried his face in Spock’s pillow, the same one he’d slept on while Spock lay comatose in Sickbay. The bond pulsed in the back of his mind, at once a reassuring presence and a horrible reminder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**  
  
“How are you holding up, kid?”   
  
Kirk looked up from his cup of coffee, which he had been staring into for the past five minutes, to see McCoy sit down by the table. It took him a moment to realize what the Doctor had said but when he did he lowered his gaze again to hide his bloodshot eyes.  
  
“I’m fine,” he said dully. He had a feeling he would be saying that a lot the next few days.  
  
McCoy handed him a plate with some toast and an apple and Kirk accepted it silently. While he didn’t feel like eating, his aching stomach told him that he probably should before he started getting dizzy.   
  
“I don’t think you are,” McCoy said, with that falsely casual tone he always used when he was about to interrogate Kirk. “First you tell me that Spock and you might be breaking up and then you spend the entire day avoiding each other. He spends the night elsewhere and here you are, looking like death warmed over.”  
  
Kirk frowned. “How did you know that Spock spent the night elsewhere?”  
  
McCoy fidgeted a little, looking embarrassed for once. “The whole crew’s talking about it,” he admitted. “One of the security officers apparently noticed Spock exit quarters in the other end of the ship this morning, and with you looking like you do…”  
  
Kirk rubbed his forehead wearily. Great, just great. As if his personal life wasn’t interfering with his work enough. How could he expect to keep the crew’s respect if he couldn’t keep them separate?   
  
“So how are you holding up?” McCoy repeated.   
  
“Spock and I broke up last night,” Kirk said quietly. No sense in lying now.   
  
McCoy stared at him, looking half like he expected a punch line. When none came, he brought his hand to his mouth and cursed softly. “You’re serious?” Kirk nodded miserably. “But… you’re bonded. Last I knew, you were happy together.”  
  
McCoy looked genuinely at loss for how to react, whether he should be comforting Kirk, hunting down Spock or just not taking it seriously at all.   
  
“What happened?” He finally settled on.  
  
“It’s a long story,” Kirk replied evasively.  
  
McCoy shrugged. “I’ve got time.”  
  
“Well I don’t,” Kirk said. “I’ve got a ship to run.”  
  
“Not for another hour,” McCoy retaliated and Kirk couldn’t really deny that. Besides, telling someone else what was going on, especially his best friend, would probably help take some of the weight off.  
  
Not that Kirk needed it. No sir, he was as composed as ever before. Still, just to keep McCoy’s mind at ease…  
  
“It happened on Decos Vau,” Kirk began.   
  
He kept his eyes on his plate as he talked, not looking up or pausing his explanation despite the occasional quiet curse from McCoy. He carefully kept his voice a dull drone, trying to feel as detached as possible. It didn’t really work but at least he didn’t start crying.  
  
Kirk finished speaking and finally dared to look up at his friend. McCoy had his hand over his mouth again and he seemed lost in his own thoughts.  
  
“Wouldn’t they take anything else?” He asked after a short silence and Kirk almost laughed. McCoy’s thought process was more similar to Spock’s than either man would ever admit. “Jim?”  
  
“No,” Kirk said quickly. “Nothing.”  
  
“Liar.”  
  
This time Kirk did laugh, a bitter, broken little sound. “Spock didn’t catch onto that, you know.”  
  
“Well, I imagine Spock was still a little disoriented when you told him,” McCoy said dryly. “It can’t be easy, having someone mess around in your brain. Now what did they ask for instead?”  
  
“Spock’s telepathy,” Kirk muttered, again seeing no reason in lying. He seemed to suck at it when it came to McCoy anyway.  
  
“And why didn’t you just tell Spock that?” McCoy questioned. “Shouldn’t the choice be up to him?”  
  
Kirk pursed his lips and remained stubbornly silent. McCoy was right, he shouldn’t be the one to make Spock’s life choices for him. But then again, the Vulcan could be so infuriatingly self-sacrificing sometimes, he couldn’t be trusted to make the decisions that were in his best interest.   
  
McCoy, seemingly reading Kirk’s thoughts by his expression alone, sighed. “I know you think you’re protecting him but what about you?”  
  
Kirk bit on his tongue to refrain from saying ‘who cares’. “I’ll be fine,” he said instead. McCoy didn’t look convinced.  
  
“Look, Jim-”  
  
“I have to go,” Kirk cut in and stood up. “Please don’t tell anyone what I just told you. Especially not Spock.”  
  
McCoy nodded reluctantly. “What are you going to tell the others then?”  
  
Kirk hesitated. He’d forgotten about them, to be honest, but he supposed their friends would want to know what was going on too. “That Spock and I are no longer together,” he finally said. “They can fill in the gaps themselves.”  
  
And with that he left, before he could catch a glimpse of the disapproving look on McCoy’s face.  
  
***  
  
Kirk fell into a new routine after that. For the most part of the day, whether on duty or not, he worked. When he wasn’t working, he exercised (punching out his problems was an unfortunate habit of his, only now he used a punching bag rather than some drunk jerk he met at a bar). He did most of this alone, as being around his friends, with their sympathetic words and well-meaning reassurances that he and Spock would eventually work it out, was too much on his admittedly fragile emotional state.  
  
He also avoided Spock, physically anyway. At the end of the day though, when he sat by himself in his distressingly empty quarters, Kirk reached out for Spock through the bond. It always left him feeling even lonelier and emptier than before but he couldn’t stop it. It was the only time he felt even remotely close to Spock. He had to wonder why Spock allowed it though, but better not to look a gift horse in the mouth.  
  
He was eventually called out on his behavior, but not, as he had been expecting, by McCoy.  
  
“This isn’t healthy,” Uhura berated. She had cornered him in the turbo lift at the end of their shift. Judging by the speed the lift was going (slowed to a crawl), Kirk suspected she and Scotty had planned and timed this.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kirk muttered evasively.   
  
Uhura crossed her arms, but when she spoke, it was with a soft, understanding tone. “None of us have spent any time with you outside of work since you and Spock got into this stupid quarrel.”  
  
Kirk rubbed his neck awkwardly. Of course most of the crew had assumed that they were fighting and blowing it way out of proportion, none of them seemed to accept that this was permanent. Kirk almost wished he could have their optimism.  
  
“You shouldn’t be dealing with this alone,” Uhura continued. “Let someone else be there for you .”  
  
“As much as I appreciate you worrying,” Kirk said, “I’d prefer to be by myself right now. And Spock and I aren’t going to get back together,” he added bitterly.  
  
Uhura raised her eyebrow skeptically. “I know I haven’t always been the most supportive of your relationship. It really pissed me off when you two got together about two weeks after Spock and I broke it off-”  
  
“Sorry about that,” Kirk mumbled.  
  
“-but that was six years ago,” Uhura kept on, as if she hadn’t heard Kirk. “I might be a little less eager to admit this if I weren’t in a relationship myself, but frankly, you and Spock work a lot better than we ever did. That’s not something that’s going to change just because you get into a bad fight.” She smiled reassuringly. “You two will work through it like you always do.”  
  
Kirk nodded and tried to smile back, though he had a feeling it looked more like a grimace. He could feel his eyes burning a little, so he quickly ducked his head. The turbo lift finally reached its destination and he stepped out, eager to get away from this conversation.  
  
“You’re eating dinner with us,” Uhura called after him. “We will come and drag you out of your quarters if necessary.”  
  
The doors of the lift closed before Kirk could reply.   
  
Well.  
  
***  
  
Ultimately, Kirk went to the mess himself without further prompting. Uhura had clearly talked to the others about mentioning Spock, because no one brought the supposed quarrel up. They talked about work instead, mostly gossiping about their fellow crew mates. Little else to talk about when you’ve been stuck on a spaceship for months on end.  
  
Afterwards, when walking back to his quarters, Kirk had to admit to himself that he felt better than he had in a while. At least he did, before arriving at his door and finding Spock standing in the corridor.  
  
Since they no longer shared quarters, it had only seemed logical that Spock move back into his old ones. Unfortunately, they were stationed right next to Kirk’s. They usually managed to avoid meeting each other in the corridors (or Kirk avoided it) but of course it was bound to happen sooner or later.  
  
For a few moments they stared at each other. Kirk swallowed heavily, feeling the mask he’d been keeping on all night starting to slip. He wanted to touch Spock so badly, to grab onto him and never let go again.   
  
He couldn’t though. Spock didn’t want him to and he had to accept that. He needed to move on.  
  
For tonight though, Kirk would make do with just running inside his quarters and hide.   
  
***  
  
Spock stared after his Captain’s retreating back. Jim’s pained expression was as burned on his mind as the hurt still pulsing through their bond but Spock could not bring himself to regret causing it. He simply did not care at all whether Jim was hurting or not.  
  
It disgusted him to feel such apathy towards another person’s pain, especially one he respected as much as the Captain but it could not be helped.  
  
Spock was beginning to understand Jim’s words about not blaming himself. He had never been so ashamed.  
  
***  
  
Kirk fought the urge to yawn as the Dalatian king launched into yet another tirade about the palace architecture or gardens or whatever. He’d long since stopped paying attention.   
  
The Dalatians had been negotiating with Starfleet about membership in the Federation for quite a few years now and considering that it had been four hours since they beamed down and they had yet to touch upon the subject, Kirk could see why. The king had told him that he never negotiated on empty stomachs (Dalatians had four or five of them) but so far they’d sat through fifteen courses and Kirk could see no end in sight. The king seemed perfectly content with babbling on about the most menial subjects and since Dalatian royalty were still considered as Gods among their people, Kirk figured it would not be seen kindly if he interrupted or tried to speed things along.  
  
This would explain why Pike had been laughing when he gave him the assignment.  
  
The worst part of it though, was that through all this Spock was sitting to his right, almost close enough to touch. While a part of Kirk loved being so close to him for the first time in what felt like forever, the rest of him ached because he knew he couldn’t close that tiny distance. He could barely hear the king speaking, too busy agonizing over his internal conflict.  
  
It was something Kirk would regret later. If he hadn’t been so focused on his own personal crisis, maybe he would have spotted the assassin in time.  
  
As was, it was not until the first shot sounded that Kirk realized what was going on. The whole table exploded into action as the king fell and Kirk immediately rushed to his side, just in time to block the second shot with his own body.  
  
Pain exploded in his right shoulder as Kirk remembered that, yeah, he wasn’t exactly immune to bullets.   
  
What kind of barbarians used bullets in this time and age anyway?  
  
He collapsed on top of the still writhing body of the king, fighting desperately just to keep breathing properly. From the corner of his eye he could see the guards tackling down the assassin and disarming him.  
  
As Kirk slipped into unconsciousness, a pain of a different kind ran through him. It was fearful panic and although it was completely justified, Kirk knew it didn’t belong to him.  
  
It belonged to Spock.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**  
  
When Leonard entered Sickbay for his shift, Spock was already there, standing over Jim’s bed with an inscrutable expression on his face.   
  
“Can I do something for you, Commander?” Leonard said as politely as he could manage. While he knew Spock wasn’t to blame for the whole situation, he couldn’t help but think that he could at least try to make it easier on Jim.  
  
Spock stared at Jim a bit longer before turning to face Leonard. “When do you estimate the Captain will regain consciousness?”  
  
“He should be awake sometime tomorrow,” Leonard replied, “but knowing Jim, he’ll probably be up in the next hour or so.”  
  
Spock nodded absentmindedly.   
  
Leonard sighed. “Come on.”   
  
He walked into his office, not waiting to see if Spock would follow him. He sat down in the chair by his desk just as Spock walked in and the doors slid shut behind him.  
  
“Now, believe me,” Leonard began, “you are the last person I want to get into an emotional discussion with but as your doctor… and as your friend, I'm obligated to ask. Are you sure you’re okay?”  
  
Spock’s silence was answer enough.  
  
“Do you feel… guilty?”   
  
“Should I not?” Spock asked softly.   
  
Leonard shrugged. “I think you should, personally. Not over what happened, that wasn’t your fault, but you could have reacted better than you did. Shutting Jim off completely isn’t doing him any good and I don’t care that you can’t return his feelings, you should at least respect them.”  
  
“I have not, as you put it, ‘shut him off completely’,” Spock countered. “Furthermore, it seems you have misunderstood the situation. I do not feel guilty for hurting Jim. I do not care for him or his emotions. I am not capable of it.”  
  
Leonard frowned at the harsh words but he knew that Spock was just being honest. Still didn’t lessen the urge to punch him. “Then why do you feel guilty?”  
  
“When the Captain collapsed, I was admittedly worried,” Spock confessed. “But not for Jim’s life. I was worried…” here he hesitated and a disgusted expression crossed his face, “…for the bond. For the pain that I would have to endure at having it so unexpectedly torn from me.”  
  
Leonard was silent for a long minute while taking this information in. “Ignoring for now the fact that you two are _still bonded_ -” he began, “which is a horrible idea in my opinion - you shouldn’t feel guilty for something that’s in no way under your control.”  
  
“But it is a life,” Spock protested. “One that was once infinitely precious to me. Despite what I may feel for Jim now, I should not put my own wellbeing ahead of his life.”  
  
“Fine,” Leonard said. “If you want to make this up to Jim,  _make an effort_. I know you’re not capable of caring for him right now but you haven’t even tried.”  
  
Spock nodded, properly chastened. “Very well. I will-”  
  
He stopped short as the doors slid open. Jim was standing right outside, leaning against the doorframe, deathly pale.  
  
“What are you doing out of bed?” Leonard reprimanded, rushing to his friend’s side. He really should have known not to leave him by himself, asleep or not.  
  
Jim didn’t seem to hear him. He was staring at Spock with what could only be described as devastation and suddenly it hit Leonard – he’d heard the whole conversation. Spock had obviously realized this as well, as he had lowered his head and was staring at the ground, too ashamed to meet Jim’s eyes.  
  
“Come on, Jim,” Leonard prompted, tugging him gently back to bed and away from Spock. It was testament to Jim’s emotional state that he didn’t even protest being handled like a child.   
  
They walked away and the doors slid shut again, cutting Spock off from view.  
  
***  
  
Kirk clutched his injured side instinctively as McCoy helped him back to bed. He knew he should be in pain but he couldn’t feel anything past the aching emptiness in his chest. He’d never been particularly fond of the metaphor but broken hearted seemed like a pretty apt description for him right now.  
  
Feeling Spock’s panic had, mean as it sounds, given him hope. Maybe if Spock could fear for him, he could also care for him.  
  
Apparently even that was too much to ask for. Spock’s words had been like a cruel wakeup call to reality. Kirk should know better than to hope but then, he’d never believed in a no-win scenario.  
  
Maybe, he thought miserably, it was time to start.  
  
***  
  
Spock did not approach Jim again while he was still in Sickbay. He had much to consider – the Doctor’s words in particular – and he did not wish to face his Captain again until he had reached a conclusion.   
  
He realized he had not reacted well to the situation. Allowing himself to remain bonded to Jim (even though he kept a firm mental wall between their minds) and yet doing nothing to pay the favor back to his Captain was not only selfish, it was downright disgraceful. Doctor McCoy was right, Spock was only making Jim’s life more difficult and it was high time that he make an effort to fix it.  
  
Three days passed and finally, Jim was back on duty. Spock spent the first shift alternating between avoiding all contact with his Captain and hovering over him protectively, mostly out of habit. While Jim did nothing to show it, Spock could tell his presence hurt him. He resolved to tell Jim of his decision as soon as the shift was over.  
  
This proved easier said than done however, as McCoy came to the bridge four minutes before the shift ended to bring the Captain in for an examination. Jim went without complaining, probably all too glad to get away from Spock.  
  
Although discouraged by this, Spock finished his shift and headed for Sickbay as soon as it was over. Once he arrived, McCoy shot him a suspicious look, before telling him that Jim had gone back to his quarters.  
  
“You’d better not upset him,” the Doctor warned. “He’s still healing. He doesn’t need any unnecessary drama.”  
  
Spock nodded in agreement. “Upsetting the Captain is not my intention.”  
  
McCoy raised an eyebrow. “Then maybe you’ll think twice about calling him ‘Captain’ while off duty,” he pointed out.  
  
Spock nodded again and quickly left Sickbay, slightly disturbed by the fact that he had admitted not once, but three times in the past day that Doctor McCoy was right about something.   
  
He arrived at the doors of the Captain’s quarters fifty-three seconds later and knocked softly.  
  
“Come in,” commanded Jim’s muffled voice from inside the cabin.   
  
When Spock entered, Jim was sitting by his desk, hunched over a PADD, a clear look of concentration on his face. That concentration broke as soon as he looked up and saw his visitor.  
  
“Mr. Spock,” he said stiffly. “What can I do for you?”  
  
“I wished to discuss our situation with you, Jim,” Spock replied.  
  
The Captain’s jaw clenched as he caught Spock’s meaning. “What’s there to discuss?”   
  
“I have been unfair to you,” Spock said.   
  
Jim shook his head. “You haven’t-”  
  
“I gave up on our relationship,” Spock cut in. “I should have known better than to accept defeat but I did nevertheless and for that I am sorry.”  
  
“But you don’t love me anymore,” Jim protested, his voice weaker and more pained than he probably intended it. “You  _can’t_. Not now, not ever. You had every reason to give up on m- on our relationship.”  
  
Spock’s eyebrows furrowed at the near slip but he let it go. For now, at least. “I cannot possibly know that unless I try.”  
  
Jim laughed hollowly. “We both know it’s impossible. Trying to force it won’t do either of us any good.”  
  
Spock was tempted to accept Jim’s reasoning and walk away. But his guilty conscience would not allow it. “We still share a telepathic connection. Is that not enough to start on?”  
  
“Spock, I can’t make you love me,” Jim said quietly. “And I refuse to try. We should just break the bond and move on with our lives.”  
  
Spock squashed the sudden urge to protest vehemently, disgusted with himself. Instead he approached the desk and softly clasped Jim’s hand in his own.   
  
"Jim, please."  
  
Without the familiar emotion behind it, the action felt empty. Jim’s hand was warm to the touch and certainly pleasant but Spock could feel nothing deeper than that. Jim, however, was staring at Spock’s hand as if it were his only lifeline. He grasped it tightly and Spock could all but feel his resolve crumble.  
  
“We can try,” he agreed, so quietly that even Spock’s Vulcan ears strained to hear him. “But you have to tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable or forcing you into anything.”  
  
Spock’s gaze fell back on their intertwined hands and he nodded solemnly.  
  
He felt nothing at the action. But perhaps he could. He would never know unless he tried.  
  
***  
  
When Kirk and Spock walked together into the mess that evening, the whole room fell silent. They made their way to their usual table, where their friends all already sat, something akin to wonder on their faces.  
  
Uhura was the first to smile. “Finally got over yourselves?”  
  
Kirk grinned back, somewhat strained. Not telling his extended family the truth was feeling increasingly like lying. No one seemed to notice his unease though, as the mess was soon once again abuzz and the tension that had been surrounding their table for the past few weeks finally evaporated. Everything was as it should be.  
  
Kirk tentatively extended two fingers towards Spock underneath the table. After a slight pause, Spock returned the gesture. Kirk smiled, this time genuinely, but the smile froze on his lips as his eyes met McCoy’s disapproving ones from across the table.  
  
McCoy didn’t say a word, but then, he didn’t have to. Kirk knew what he was thinking and deep down, he also knew that he was right.  
  
 _‘This is only going to hurt you more in the long run.’_


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**  
  
“Hobgoblin’s not with you today either, I see,” McCoy commented wryly as he sat opposite Kirk. It was a good hour before Alpha shift started and there were only a few other people in the mess, most of them half-asleep or buried in their PADDs. One table over, Christine Chapel was snoozing, her elbow resting on her buttered piece of toast.  
  
“He had to work,” Kirk replied vaguely. At McCoy’s raised eyebrow, he scowled. “Shut up.”  
  
“I didn’t say anything,” McCoy said innocently. “But that’s the third time this week, isn’t it?”  
  
Kirk pushed his oatmeal around, very pointedly not saying anything. He knew what McCoy was implying. Spock was trying but he had been distant ever since they decided to give their relationship another shot. Even though they shared quarters, Kirk barely got to see him outside of work, let alone touch him. Not that Kirk could blame him.  
  
McCoy sighed. “Why do you insist on torturing yourself, Jim?”  
  
“I’m not,” Kirk insisted stubbornly. “Besides, this whole thing was your idea. You told Spock to ‘make an effort’. Well, he’s making an effort.”  
  
“I wasn’t the one to suggest he move back in with you,” McCoy protested. “I was just trying to get him to speak to you again. You can’t just jump back into your old relationship right away, these things take time.”  
  
“This coming from the bitter divorcé,” Kirk said angrily, instantly regretting it as he saw McCoy’s jaw clench. “Sorry.”  
  
“My point is,” McCoy continued, ignoring Kirk’s remark and apology, “Spock is incapable of loving you right now. That feeling you two spent years building up has been taken from him. If you want something new, you’re going to have to start from the beginning.”  
  
***  
  
That night as he was getting ready for bed, Kirk found he couldn’t get his friend’s words out of his head. Was McCoy right? Was it doing his relationship with Spock more harm than good, jumping into it like this?  
  
He lay down and Spock soon joined him wordlessly, lying stiffly on the right side of the bed, not one inch of their bodies touching. Despite the late hour, he would be up and gone long before Kirk even woke up. It hurt just to think about it.  
  
It didn’t matter, Kirk decided, whether McCoy was right or not. Stupid and self-destructive as it was, he wanted Spock as close as possible. No matter that he couldn’t touch him either way.   
  
With that thought, Kirk went to sleep, at once half a foot and ten thousand miles away from his bondmate.  
  
***  
  
“Doctor?”  
  
Christine Chapel was not a nervous woman by any right but right now she was all but quivering in her black, Starfleet-issued boots. She was famous around the  _Enterprise_ for the skillful way she handled Doctor McCoy at his worst but even she wouldn’t dare to pry into his personal matters. Until now.  
  
“What is it, Christine?”  
  
Not that they were  _Doctor McCoy’s_  personal matters, per se, they were the Captain’s. Somehow, that was even worse.   
  
“I was-” she started hesitantly, “I was wondering about something I overheard in the mess yesterday.”  
  
Judging by Doctor McCoy’s furrowed eyebrows he knew exactly what she was talking about. He still asked her.  
  
She told him.  
  
“What exactly did you mean by it?” She finished, eyeing him hopefully. He hadn’t gotten mad yet, which was a good sign.  
  
“It’s not really my place to tell,” McCoy said hesitantly.   
  
Christine wasn’t giving up so easily. “It’s got something to do with Decos Vau, doesn’t it? You three have been muttering about that planet for weeks.”  
  
McCoy paled a little bit but showed no other reaction. “Is there any reason you’re asking other than morbid curiosity?”  
  
“I’m concerned,” Christine stated, which was really only half a lie. “I want to know if there’s anything I could do to help.”  
  
“There isn’t,” McCoy said gruffly but Christine could tell that she was beginning to wear him down.  
  
“Helping also includes sharing the burden. Letting you vent about it, to someone you trust. You trust me, don’t you?” Okay, that last one was kind of a dirty trick. Still, it seemed to work as McCoy’s expression softened considerably.  
  
“What I’m about to say never leaves this office,” he finally said. Inwardly, Christine cheered. Outwardly, she plastered on an understanding smile and sat down next to the Doctor.  
  
***  
  
“You  _told_ her?!”   
  
Leonard winced at the betrayed tone in Jim’s voice. “Jim…”  
  
“I don’t want to hear it,” Jim snapped. “How could you do this? What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?”   
  
“Technically, it doesn’t apply here,” Leonard muttered, earning himself a withering glare from his friend. “I’m sorry Jim, I don’t know what I was thinking.”  
  
Jim scoffed. “Clearly. Is this revenge for the ‘bitter divorcé’ comment? Because I said I was sorry.”  
  
“This has nothing to do with that,” Leonard said. “I just got sick of watching you hurt yourself and being the only one who even knew.”  
  
“Spock knows.”  
  
Leonard snorted. “Yeah and he’s been a real help.”  
  
“Chapel’s not going to be any help either,” Jim pointed out. “You know she’s in love with Spock.”  
  
Leonard rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know,” he admitted. “But… it hasn’t been easy, Jim.”  
  
“It hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park for me either,” Jim said, his voice oddly raw. It struck Leonard that he was holding back tears.   
  
“Jim-”  
  
But Jim was already up and leaving. “I’ll talk to you later, Bones.”  
  
Leonard watched him go, internally smacking himself.  _Nice going, asshole. Let’s see if he ever trusts you again._  
  
What killed him most, though, was knowing that Jim had yet again been on the brink of a breakdown and he was yet again about to go bury those emotions in work instead of seeking comfort with in friends as he should.   
  
***  
  
Spock emerged from his mediation to find Jim sitting at his desk, deeply immersed in paperwork. Or he appeared deeply immersed. Spock did not need to remove the wall blocking access between their minds to know that Jim was upset; the feeling seemed to roll from him in waves.  
  
“Do you wish to discuss it?” Spock asked quietly.  
  
“Discuss what?” Jim replied without so much as looking up from his PADD.   
  
“The reason for your distress.”  
  
Jim did not look up nor did he reply. “I think I’ll go to bed,” he said instead, standing up and stretching in a way that indicated that he had been sitting by the desk for far too long.  
  
They both went through their separate evening routines, mindful not to get in each other’s way. Spock was still growing accustomed to living with Jim again and he had still not gotten over the initial stage of discomfort. He felt like he should have.  
  
As Spock was taking off his boots, he was startled by Jim’s hand on his shoulder. He pulled away immediately, before he could put any thought to the action and looked around just in time to catch the hurt expression on Jim’s face. “I apologize. You startled me.”  
  
“It’s alright,” Jim said impassively. “I just wanted to-” Spock prompted him quietly with a raise of his eyebrow “-could you do me a favor?”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Jim was looking at the floor as he spoke his next words, his voice sounding impossibly small. “Tell me you love me?”  
  
Spock froze. He had not been expecting this request and his mind unwillingly recalled the last time his bondmate had spoken those words, four months prior. The heated kisses exchanged, the fervent promises made, the passion and the devotion and the impossible closeness. “I- I cannot...”  
  
Jim smiled at the floor, though it appeared forced and pained. “I didn’t think so. Thanks all the same.”  
  
Spock frowned but Jim only moved to the other side of the bed and went to sleep, his back turned on the Vulcan. For one fleeting moment, Spock felt the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him, to regain that feeling he could remember so well and have what they had all those months ago. The impulse was gone as soon as it came and Spock berated himself for it. He knew better than to wish for the impossible.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**  
  
“Would you care for some plomeek soup, Mr. Spock?”   
  
Spock blinked, momentarily shocked into silence. He had been so engrossed in his report that he had not heard anyone enter the lab. “I do not require any nourishment at this time.” He paused. “But thank you, Ms. Chapel.”  
  
Chapel, rather than taking this as her cue to leave, sat down by the table. When Spock looked up from his report, he found her looking at him with a gentle, sympathetic expression.   
  
“Should you not be returning to your work?” Spock asked bluntly, certain that his brusque manner would chase her off as it had often done before.  
  
“I’m off duty,” Chapel replied quickly.   
  
“Surely, you must have more interesting ways to spend your time than observing my work.”  
  
Again, Spock was surprised when Chapel made no move to leave. Instead her eyes softened and she leaned over the table, saying quietly; “It must be difficult for you.”  
  
Spock was baffled. “Pardon?”  
  
“Doctor McCoy told me,” Chapel explained, “about your situation. About what happened on Decos Vau.”  
  
Ah.  
  
“Then you should know that the Captain is far more deserving of your sympathy than I,” Spock said curtly.  
  
“He must be suffering,” Chapel agreed, sounding genuinely upset. “But he’s already got the Doctor worrying about him. You, Mr. Spock, haven’t been able to share your pain with anyone. You do feel pain, don’t you?”  
  
Spock turned back to his report. “I cannot imagine why I should.”  
  
“You’re stuck in a relationship with someone you don’t feel anything for,” Chapel said. “That has to be hard on you.”  
  
“My relationship with the Captain is none of your concern,” Spock snapped, feeling inexplicably offended. “And it is unbecoming of a Starfleet officer to pry in their superior’s personal matters.”  
  
Chapel stood up. “Sorry,” she said earnestly. “I thought you might like to talk it out.”  
  
Spock stayed silent as the nurse walked out of the lab, leaving him alone. The plomeek soup she had brought him lay on the table, cooling rapidly.  
  
***  
  
Despite her spectacular failure, Christine resolved not to give up. Spock clearly needed someone to talk to or at the very least someone to be there for him and no one else seemed to be up to the task. Kirk had his own pain to worry about and Doctor McCoy was still on less than friendly terms with the Vulcan science officer.   
  
It had nothing to do with Christine’s own feelings. This was about helping someone in need. What she may or may not feel for him was irrelevant. Or at least that was what she told herself.  
  
In her not-at-all self serving quest to get Spock to open up to her, Christine stopped by the science labs every day when she knew Spock would be there (despite him being off duty), bringing food, drinks or just a friendly presence. She gave up prodding and asking questions after the first couple of days, as even Spock’s Vulcan disposition was beginning to crack from sheer annoyance. Instead she was content with just sitting there, occasionally trying to make conversation but mostly watching Spock work in silence.   
  
It was beginning to work, sort of, maybe, because at least he’d stopped glaring at her. He even answered some of her less intrusive queries. One time, he almost  _smiled_ at her and Christine spent the rest of the day in a state of delirious happiness. She was beginning to forget her original mission, too intent on getting closer to Spock, getting him to talk to her.   
  
Like today. Christine had asked him about the plant specimens currently being kept in the lab and Spock had launched into a long, detailed description of each sampling. While Christine didn’t much care for the greenery, seeing Spock clearly enjoying himself (well, he didn’t show it but judging by his slightly-livelier-than-monotone voice, she figured he had to be) was fascinating all on its own.  
  
Unfortunately, they were interrupted as the doors slid open. Captain Kirk walked into the room, pausing hesitantly, eyes darting between the two of them. It was strange, Christine had never seen her Captain so nervous before. Almost vulnerable. Her heart clenched when she realized why it must be and her face reddened with shame.  
  
“Captain,” she muttered in greeting.  
  
“Ms. Chapel,” he replied. “If you don’t mind, I would like to speak to Commander Spock in private.”  
  
Christine nodded and stood up. “Of course.” She spared one last glance at Spock, who was staring at the Captain, and fled out of the room.   
  
She felt strangely guilty at this turn of event. Which was ridiculous, it wasn’t as if she’d done anything wrong.   
  
Had she?  
  
***  
  
“You two seemed friendly.”   
  
Spock broke his eye contact with Kirk, a sure indicator that he was feeling guilty. “Ms. Chapel was curious about the specimens. I was merely informing her of the data we had gathered on them so far.”  
  
Kirk nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Is this the first time she’s been here?”  
  
“No,” Spock admitted after a slight hesitation. “She seems to enjoy spending her free time in the labs and I do not object to her presence.”  
  
“I’m sure you don’t,” Kirk muttered bitterly.   
  
“Jim…” Spock trailed off. He had no excuse to offer, no explanation that would not hurt Kirk more than he had already.  
  
Kirk willed his voice to stay steady. “Spock, you promised me when we got back together that you’d tell me if I was forcing you to stay with me.”  
  
“You are not forcing-” Spock started pleadingly but Kirk cut him off.  
  
“Well, I might as well be,” he said angrily. “You’re in a relationship with me, even though you like someone else. Don’t even try to deny it,” he added when Spock opened his mouth to answer. “I only saw you two together for about five seconds but you’re closer to her than you’ve been to me for weeks.”  
  
“I apologize,” Spock said quietly. “You must know that it was never my intention to cause you pain.”  
  
Kirk ran his hand through his hair. “I know it wasn’t. You’re not that cruel. But I’m getting sick of this distance between us. We’re sharing the same bed but we might as well be in different galaxies. It just… it hurts.”   
  
If he had the strength, he’d end their relationship, and their bond, right then and there. For now, though, he’d had about as much heartbreak as he could stand.  
  
“We’re talking about this tonight,” Kirk said with finality. Spock could only nod his agreement.  
  
***  
  
“I’m a horrible person.”  
  
Nyota blinked. She had opened her door, expecting… well, she wasn’t quite sure what, but a teary-eyed Christine Chapel wasn’t it. She wordlessly stepped aside, allowing her friend into her quarters. Christine sniffled loudly and threw herself into the nearest chair, looking utterly defeated.  
  
“What’s the matter, sweetie?” Nyota asked as she sat next to her friend, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder to calm her slight shaking.  
  
“I did something terrible,” Christine sobbed.   
  
Nyota listened dumbfounded as Christine explained the situation to her - the whole situation. The truth about Decos Vau and the subsequent changes to Kirk and Spock's relationship. How she herself had found out and used it to her advantage to get closer to Spock.  
  
"And the Captain's face when he walked in on us in the lab," Christine said sadly. "I've never felt so rotten in my entire life."  
  
Nyota nodded absentmindedly, still taking it all in.   
  
Christine didn't seem to notice that her friend was no longer listening, as she continued unabated. "It's just that I couldn't stand the thought of Mr. Spock being stuck in a relationship with someone he doesn't care about."  
  
There was a short silence as Nyota did her best not to punch her friend.  
  
"I think it's best you stay out of it, Christine," she finally said calmly. "You don't know Spock well enough to be making any assumptions about his emotions and you clearly haven't been showing the Captain's suffering enough compassion. Besides, you've done enough damage already."  
  
Christine nodded guiltily. She hadn't expected Nyota to say anything else, mostly she was just relieved to finally say it all out loud to someone. She stood up, thanking Nyota quietly and made to leave.  
  
"Christine," Nyota called after her. Christine turned around, surprised by the vehement tone in her voice. "I'll say this in the nicest way possible, since you're obviously regret what you did. If you ever try something like this again, I will never forgive you."  
  
Christine left hurriedly with a muttered "understood", blushing much to Nyota's malicious satisfaction. Christine may be her friend but so were Kirk and Spock and this wasn't something easily forgiven.   
  
***  
  
Spock stared blankly at the report in front of him, seeing the words without grasping their meaning. He could not concentrate.  
  
The Captain’s words still echoed in his mind.  _We’re sharing the same bed but we might as well be in different galaxies._  
  
He was right, of course. Their relationship lacked intimacy and as hard as Jim tried, he would not be able to bridge the gap alone. Perhaps, Spock reflected, it would be in their best interest to end it.   
  
Or perhaps, since he could not provide Jim with emotional intimacy (yet), he should try for physical intimacy instead.  
  
***  
  
Kirk returned to the bridge, immensely grateful that Spock wasn’t on duty. After their talk (well, Kirk’s talk) in the lab, the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in the same room as him for four whole hours. Talking to him tonight would be difficult enough.  
  
The shift passed far too quickly to Kirk’s liking and at the end of it he didn’t feel any readier to face Spock than he had four hours earlier. He just felt nervous and vaguely queasy. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to break up with Spock or have Spock break up with him. On a rational level, Kirk knew this kind of behavior was self-destructive. Nothing about their relationship had been right since they got back together. Spock would never touch him unless Kirk initiated the contact and even then it seemed like he reciprocated more out of a sense of duty than anything else. They never really talked anymore, they never even spent any time together outside of work.  
  
Maybe that was why seeing Chapel in the lab had hurt so much. Spock had not only allowed her to hang around while he was working, he actually seemed to enjoy her presence. Kirk had to admit that it stung, if only to himself. Spock didn’t ever seem to like him being around. And who could blame him? The only reason he’d put up with all of Kirk’s flaws before was because he loved him but now that wasn’t possible.   
  
Kirk hadn’t felt this insecure about himself in years. He felt like he was back at the Academy, faking arrogance to hide the emotional train wreck beneath. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Kirk had hated himself at the Academy.   
  
He spent the rest of the shift deeply immersed in his thoughts, feeling worse with every passing minute. This funk wasn’t something Kirk was entirely unfamiliar with, he tended to fall into depressing musings on occasion but then he’d always had Spock to pull him out of them before. Now he didn’t even have that.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Kirk stood up and handed the conn over to Sulu, before leaving the bridge. His shift would be over in a couple of minutes anyway and he’d thought it better to leave now, rather than having a full on emotional meltdown on the bridge and embarrass himself.  
  
He was about to reach his quarters when he was tackled by a red blur. It took him a couple of moments to realize that the red blur was Uhura and that he was being hugged, for all it felt like she was trying to squeeze his lungs out of his chest. Kirk stood there awkwardly, unsure of whether he should return the embrace. Uhura fortunately pulled away pretty soon and stepped back, regarding him with a saddened expression that bordered on pitying.  
  
Kirk’s mouth dried. She knew.  
  
“Christine told me,” she said softly in response to his silent question.  
  
“I see,” Kirk muttered. It was just one disaster after another today, wasn’t it?  
  
“She’s sorry, if that’s any consolation.” It wasn’t. “I am, too.”  
  
“Why would you be?” Kirk said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone but was probably more bitter than anything. “None of this is your fault.”  
  
Uhura just stared at him with those damned understanding eyes that Kirk knew could see right through him. “Is there anything I can do?”  
  
Kirk shook his head. “Just don’t tell anyone. More people know about this already than I would have liked.”  
  
Uhura hugged him again, much softer this time. “Consider it done,” she whispered into his ear. “And please, don’t try to go through this alone. If you’re not going to let me comfort you, at least allow Leonard to help.”  
  
She let him go and kissed his cheek softly. Kirk nodded mutely, genuinely worried that if he tried to talk, he might begin to cry. He all but fled into his quarters as soon as Uhura turned away.   
  
Kirk stared at his desk, contemplating whether he should fall back on his usual method of filing paperwork until he didn’t feel like his emotions were swallowing him whole anymore. He didn’t feel like filing paperwork right now, though. He didn’t feel anything, really, except for exhaustion.  
  
Kirk sat gingerly down on the bed and pulled off his boots. Then he lay down, too tired to bother with anything else. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.  
  
***  
  
Spock entered his quarters, deep in contemplation. His thoughts were interrupted when he spotted Jim asleep on their bed. Spock approached him silently and, hesitantly, he reached out one hand and brushed through Jim’s golden hair. A thousand unbidden memories entered his mind, of long, sleepless nights and lazy mornings, and his breath caught in his throat. Spock could not understand what he was feeling, it was not quite love but it was certainly more than the apathy he had come to associate with Jim. The closest description he could come up with was nostalgia but even that fell short.  
  
Before he could stop himself, Spock was shaking Jim’s shoulder. Jim grunted and opened his eyes blearily.  
  
“Spock?” He muttered in a sleep-addled voice.  
  
“I have considered what you said,” Spock said quietly. “I understand that I have been enforcing a certain distance between us. I wish to rectify that.”  
  
“Wha-”  
  
Spock did not allow Jim to finish his query, instead leaning down and sealing his lips over Jim’s. The Captain let out a small, desperate noise and grabbed Spock’s shoulders, pulling the Vulcan on top of him. Spock, remembering what he used to do in this situation, lifted Jim’s shirt to stroke the warm skin beneath. It was a pleasant enough sensation but Spock could not feel anything deeper than that. It frustrated him and he kissed Jim harder, as if he could wring the emotion out of him if he was only insistent enough. He bit Jim’s lower lip and Jim moaned.  
  
“The bond,” Jim gasped as Spock broke the kiss. “Unblock it. I want to feel you.”  
  
Spock ignored him and kissed his neck determinedly, his movements mechanical and every touch and response rehearsed. He could draw no more from this than the most superficial pleasure but judging by Jim’s soft groans, he was at least enjoying himself.   
  
But then he was pulling away. “Spock,” Jim muttered. “Unblock the bond, please. I need to know what you’re feeling.”  
  
Spock reluctantly complied. For a few moments his mind was overwhelmed with joy at Jim’s presence, that familiar touch he had denied himself for far too long. The feeling faded fast and in its place came the bitter disappointment Spock could not help as he realized that this familiar touch brought him no more enjoyment than Jim’s physical presence did. Jim wrenched away from him as if he had been burned and Spock quickly blocked the link between their minds again.   
  
“Why?” Jim asked, his voice betrayed and hurt.  
  
“You wished to be closer to me,” Spock explained. “This was the only way I could give that to you.”  
  
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have tried at all,” Jim said bitterly. “Your – your kiss, your touch, they mean nothing if there’s no emotion behind it.” He sighed. “But I should probably be thanking you. For making this decision easier.”  
  
Spock’s mouth dried. “What decision?”  
  
“I can’t do this anymore.” Jim paused and it was only then that Spock realized how close he was to tears. “I’m sick of feeling like this all the time. I should have given up on you a long time ago.”  
  
“You wish to break the bond.” It wasn’t a question.  
  
“Yes,” Jim answered anyway.   
  
Spock ignored the primal urge in him that demanded that he protest, that he protect the bond to his last breath. He couldn’t do that to Jim. “We will need a trained healer.”  
  
“I’m setting a course to New Vulcan tomorrow,” Jim said. “As far as Starfleet's concerned, it’ll be for medical reasons. True enough, I suppose. It shouldn’t take more than four days to get there.”  
  
Spock nodded silently, not allowing his panic to overtake him just yet. If he contacted his father tomorrow, he should be able to find Spock a new bondmate before they even arrived at New Vulcan.   
  
That thought did little to comfort him. Despite the fact that he could still feel nothing for Jim, there was a part of Spock that wanted nothing more than to hold onto him for as long as he could. That part was soundly ignored as Spock stood up and, without another word, left Jim alone in their quarters.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**  
  
As the next few days passed, Kirk grew more and more anxious. Asking Spock to get the bond broken had taken a lot of courage, and somehow Kirk had failed to realize that the four days’ travel to New Vulcan would give him ample time to have second thoughts. Or third or fourth thoughts for that matter.  
  
Alright, so the subject pretty much hadn’t left his mind since he’d first uttered it out loud.   
  
It was putting him on edge and depressing him simultaneously, and while it wasn’t affecting his work per se, he couldn’t stand being around Spock while not on shift. When Kirk told McCoy this, the Doctor had suggested transferring Spock to another ship after the whole mess was dealt with. Kirk hadn’t brought it up again. Breaking the bond was bad enough, but he couldn’t imagine not seeing Spock every day, even if seeing him meant getting horrible pains in his chest. While there was a part of him that wanted Spock in the opposite end of the galaxy  _right now_ , the biggest part of Kirk still wasn’t ready to let go so completely. One step at a time and all that.  
  
It had also occurred to Kirk that while he knew what bond breaking entailed, he didn’t really know the details. Would it be painful? How would he feel afterwards, and, most importantly, how would Spock feel?   
  
Kirk hadn’t asked Spock about any of this, since doing so meant talking to him about something other than work. It didn’t matter anyway, while filled with dread, the next four days passed relatively quickly and before he knew, Kirk was being beamed down to New Vulcan along with Spock.  
  
They were greeted on the planet’s surface by Spock’s father, Sarek, looking as grave as Kirk had ever seen him, and Ambassador Spock (or Solak, as he was better known as in this universe). The latter nodded at Kirk in greeting and his eyes softened slightly, something Kirk had come to call ‘Spock’s inner smile’. It had been a while since Kirk had seen it directed at him (by either Spock), and to his embarrassment he felt his eyes dampen.   
  
“Welcome to New Vulcan, Captain Kirk,” Sarek greeted, shaking Kirk out of his stupor. “Commander Spock.”  
  
Spock’s name and title were said with noticeable reprimand, and Kirk had to wonder just what Spock had told his father about their situation. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask either of them. Better to just get this all over with. “Thank you, Ambassador Sarek. I understand that you have contacted a healer for us?”  
  
“Indeed,” Sarek said dryly. “But I must ask you to endure the bond for one more day. Before it can be broken, another mate must be found for Spock.”  
  
Kirk’s stomach dropped. He really should have expected this. Spock did have needs, after all, the most prominent of which being Pon Farr. It might not happen for another couple of years, but of course Sarek wasn’t going to let Spock go unbonded for that long.   
  
“It’s fine,” Kirk said, forcing his emotions down. Spock would be so proud.  
  
“Ambassador Solak has offered to keep you company for the day,” Sarek informed him. “If you will pardon us, I wish to speak my son in private.”  
  
Kirk glanced at Spock, who walked stiffly over to his father, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else. “Yeah, no problem.”  
  
Kirk watched the father-son pair leave, before turning to Ambassador Spock. The older man was looking at him the same way as always, affection mingled with sadness and a little longing, and Kirk wanted nothing more than to latch onto him and never let go. He refrained however, and settled for a grin and a small pat on the shoulder.   
  
“It is good to see you again, Jim,” the Ambassador said and  _God_ , had Kirk missed hearing Spock call him that. “Though I dearly wish it were under better circumstances.”  
  
“You and me both,” Kirk said with a small, bitter smile.  
  
The Ambassador grasped Kirk’s arm softly. “Come. I believe I promised you a tour of New Vulcan’s Science Academy the last time we spoke.”  
  
Kirk allowed himself to be led away, doing his best to not wonder what kind of bondmate Sarek would find for Spock.  
  
***  
  
“I do not require a new bondmate, father,” Spock announced as soon as they were out of earshot.  
  
He did not dare glance in Sarek’s direction, so he could not see if he displayed any outward signs of surprise. His voice was, at any rate, devoid of emotion. “I cannot pretend to understand your sudden decision to break your bond with Captain Kirk, a man whom you have proclaimed to love and who clearly still harbors strong emotion towards you. Nevertheless, I will not argue with you on the subject. But to remain unbonded would be highly illogical. It will cause you undue pain.”  
  
“It was not my decision to break our bond,” Spock replied stiffly, ignoring the latter half of Sarek’s speech.  
  
Sarek’s eyebrow shot up. “Then why-”   
  
“Because I do not love him,” Spock cut in. “Because I  _cannot_ love him and I do not wish to cause him more pain than I already have. And that is why I do not desire a new bondmate yet. I have already placed my needs ahead of his once, I will not do so again.”  
  
After a long, heavy silence, Sarek finally spoke. “Very well,” he said. “I shall inform Healer T’Pan of your decision. I suggest you use your time until Ambassador Solak returns with your Captain to meditate. ”  
  
With that said, Sarek walked away and Spock was left standing in the empty hallway, willing himself not to regret his decision.  
  
***  
  
Spending the day with old Spock had been… nice. Kirk figured he’d probably have enjoyed it more if not for the evening looming over his head like his own execution. The Ambassador had done his best to distract him, though, and at times it had even almost worked. They hadn’t really talked about anything, even though Kirk had a million questions he was dying to ask. Spock had mostly told him about the Academy and the work they were doing there. All in all, Kirk couldn’t say he was completely unhappy.  
  
That still didn’t explain why he had asked Spock to stay for the ceremony.   
  
The request (plea) had slipped past Kirk’s lips before he’d even had a chance to think of it twice and he regretted it instantly. He sounded childish,  _needy_ and James Kirk didn’t  _need_ people. He depended on no one but himself.  
  
Only he didn’t. He depended on  _Spock_  and look where that had gotten him. He shouldn’t be this eager to rely on someone again. But the instinct wasn’t so easily repressed and even though it wasn’t his Spock, Kirk couldn’t help but unconsciously lean on him.   
  
The old man accepted his request. Of course he did. When the time came, he walked right beside Kirk to the ceremonial chamber. The younger Spock was already there, as were Sarek and the healer (but no new bondmate, Kirk noted curiously). Kirk uneasily sat down next to Spock, finding himself unable to look either at his bondmate or the clearly disapproving healer (where was that famed Vulcan stoicism now?). The sooner the ceremony was over with, the better.  
  
Kirk almost jumped as the healer unexpectedly laid a cool hand on his face. He did jump when in the next moment, his mind was invaded by an unfamiliar presence. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of a stranger messing around in his brain, glancing discreetly at the older Spock for comfort.   
  
Suddenly, Kirk’s breath caught in his throat. He was struck by a blinding pain in his head, leaving him reeling as it immediately disappeared again. He blinked several times, trying to realize what was going on as he was aided to his feet by Ambassador Spock. The healer had released him.  
  
“It is done,” she announced.  
  
That was it? It was over?   
  
Kirk couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It had all been so quick. He didn’t feel any different than before, aside from the slight throbbing in his head. Shouldn’t he feel different?   
  
“I don’t feel any different,” he mumbled to himself.  
  
“Do not worry,” Ambassador Spock reassured him quietly, while leading Kirk out of the room. “I suspect Spock has had the bond blocked for quite some time. You would not have felt it disappear.”  
  
Kirk was not comforted by this. This whole thing was oddly anti-climactic and instead of getting closure, he just felt more confused than ever.  
  
“Perhaps it is time you return to your ship?” Spock suggested gently.   
  
Kirk shook his head. “I don’t think I can, right now. We’re not heading out until tomorrow, anyway.” He paused awkwardly. “Can I stay with you?”  
  
Spock smiled softly, a real, quirk-of-the-lips smile, both comforting and sad. “Of course, old friend.”  
  
***  
  
“-don’t feel any different.”  
  
Spock watched blankly as his former bondmate left with his alternate self. Inside, his mind was screaming in agony, torn in half abruptly and painfully. It hurt, even more so than T’Pring’s sudden and unexpected death all those years ago. Their bond had never been particularly strong and so the loss had not been felt too acutely (cruel as that may sound).  
  
But his bond with Kirk, even after months of repressing, had been strong. Too strong. Spock had not been prepared for the backlash of it being broken apart so forcefully.  
  
Distantly, he heard his father utter his name. Spock paid him no heed.   
  
“I will return to the  _Enterprise_ to meditate,” he informed Sarek. “I will contact you again at 0600 hours tomorrow, before we head out again.”  
  
Spock did not wait for a response but instead took out his communicator and issued quick orders to Mr. Scott. He was beamed aboard almost instantly and he allowed himself to sag in relief. The pain was quickly giving way, being replaced instead by a terrible emptiness. Spock closed his eyes momentarily as he rematerialized onboard the _Enterprise_ , regaining his composure.  
  
“Where’s Jim?” Ah. What was the human saying? Out of the frying pan and into the fire.  
  
“The Captain has elected to stay on New Vulcan for the night,” Spock replied without so much as glancing at the Doctor. While he had no verification for his claim, he felt confident that he was right.   
  
“Jim’s staying down there?” Doctor McCoy’s voice was incredulous.  
  
Spock stormed out of the transporter room, the Doctor following him much to his displeasure. “He is free to do so. The ship will not leave orbit for another 12.3 hours.”  
  
“What the hell’s down there, that’s got Jim so eager to stay?” They entered the turbolift.  
  
“I suggest you ask the Captain.”  
  
Doctor McCoy seemed less than satisfied. No doubt had he been waiting to comfort the Captain. Spock ignored the growing emptiness in his chest.  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
The question caught Spock by surprise. “I am… adequate,” he replied coolly.   
  
“It’s a bitch, isn’t it?” McCoy said. “Being so dependent on someone you care absolutely nothing for.”  
  
Spock was unsure of how to respond, so he didn’t.  
  
“You did the right thing, if that’s any consolation. Jim’s going to feel rotten for a while but eventually he’ll be better off without you holding him back.” McCoy smiled bitterly. “They always are.”  
  
The turbolift came to a stop but Spock did not move right away. He mulled over the Doctor’s words. Strangely enough, they gave him some semblance of comfort.   
  
“Come on,” McCoy finally sighed. “You’d better have some damn bourbon in that cabin of yours, because there’s no way I’m getting through the night sober.”  
  
Spock nodded and follow the Doctor out of the turbolift, worried that if he were to speak, he may not be able to stop words of gratitude from escaping. He did not need himself exposed further tonight.  
  
***  
  
“Did this ever happen to you?”   
  
The question had been burning on Kirk’s lips all day. He wasn’t one to believe in fate or destiny or whatever, he didn’t like the thought that some things were absolutely unavoidable, but it would help to know that some time, somewhere, another Kirk and Spock had gone through the same thing he had and come out stronger for it.  
  
That hope was dashed pretty quickly by Ambassador Spock’s quiet “no”.   
  
Kirk let out a short, bitter chuckle. “No, I guess you wouldn’t have. If you had, you wouldn’t be able to look at me like you do now.”  
  
Spock was silent for a few moments, before asking: “And how is that?”  
  
“You know.” Kirk shrugged. “Like I’m somebody. Like you actually care whether I live or die. Even if it’s not really me you’re seeing. Just him.” He paused. “How long has it been since he died?”  
  
“One-hundred years, 68 days ago,” Spock answered without hesitation. Kirk let out a low whistle. “My time without him has been far longer than the time I spent with him.”  
  
“But you still love him.” It wasn’t a question.  
  
“Yes,” Spock answered anyway.   
  
It suddenly struck Kirk just how horribly unfair it all was. Spock loved a version of Jim Kirk that had been dead for over a century, while he loved a version of Spock that could never love him back. It was hilarious, really. In a completely tragic way.  
  
Kirk rubbed his eyes angrily. He’d been strong so far, he sure as hell wasn’t going to break down now, especially not with an audience.  
  
Spock apparently wasn't going to give him a choice. He sat down next to Kirk and laid a heavy, frail hand on his shoulder, his expression one of pained understanding.  
  
And for Kirk, it was enough. He reached blindly for the old Vulcan, burying his face in his shoulder and finally, after months of forced composure, allowed himself to cry.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 9**  
  
Life on the  _Enterprise_ quickly assumed a new routine. The atmosphere on board was considerably gloomier and less familial than before. Only on duty could Kirk and Spock be seen together and although this was nothing new, it was first now that the crew really seemed aware of it. First now that the reality of the situation was sinking in. This was permanent.  
  
"It ees depressink," Chekov sighed at the lunch table one day. Neither Kirk nor Spock were present. "If ze Keptin and Mr. Spock cannot last, vat hope is for ze rest of us?"  
  
Scotty nodded gravely. Uhura and McCoy shared a meaningful look but neither of them said anything. Then Kirk entered the mess and everyone did their best to look cheerful.  
  
***  
  
Spock scrutinized the performance charts, as if he could change the results just by staring at them hard enough. They were worrying to say the least.  
  
Productivity was down 5.4 % in the past month. That was only the average, of course. Some crew members were even worse off. Spock did not dare to look up his own results, lest he turn out to be one of them. He did not wish to discover that on a ship full of over-emotional, illogical humans, he was the most over-emotional and illogical of them all.  
  
The breaking of the bond had taken its toll on Spock's mind but more so, his emotions. He felt oddly lost, as if his whole world had spun from its axis. He also felt terribly lonely. Spock hadn't realized before how much he had come to depend on his bond with Kirk, even without the emotions to fuel it. Eleven times in the past week alone, Spock had found himself staring at Kirk, filled with longing. Not the kind one feels for a lover, but the kind a Vulcan feels for the perfectly compatible mind. There was an aching emptiness in Spock's mind and his heart that he instinctively knew could only be filled by Kirk. But Kirk did not want him. Or rather, Spock did not want Kirk, not in the right way.  
  
Spock was suddenly aware that he had been staring into thin air for 38 seconds and quickly turned his eyes back to the performance charts.   
  
The Captain's name was near the top, with a 6.2 % decrease in productivity. Normally Spock would have found this worrying but Kirk's productivity had been on a steady increase since the events on Decos Vau, just as his health had surely been inclining. The sudden drop meant that the Captain had finally stopped seeking refuge in his work rather than with his friends.  
  
Spock glanced down the charts until he finally found his own name. A 0.9% drop in productivity. Even given the possibility of a 0.4% margin of error, this was unacceptable. Like all Vulcans, Spock prided himself in the fact that he never let his emotions influence his work.  
  
Putting this distressing discovery out of his mind, Spock instead focused on the other names on the chart. Almost every crew member's performance ratings had dropped. It was high time this was brought to the Captain’s attention.  
  
***  
  
While Spock quietly struggled with his emotions, Kirk was doing the same (if in a completely different way). Since that night on New Vulcan, when Kirk had spent the better part of an hour crying on Ambassador Spock's shoulder, the young captain felt refreshed. The pain was still there but it was not as all-consuming and unmanageable as before. He felt like he could finally stop - for lack of a better word- mourning his old relationship and start moving on. It was a feeling as liberating as it was terrifying. A chapter was being closed; admittedly one Kirk never thought would be but nevertheless needed to.  
  
Of course closure would be a lot easier if Spock wasn't sleeping less then ten feet away. Or if he wasn’t Kirk’s second in command and spent almost every waking moment of the day in the same room as him.  
  
Yeah, it was less than ideal. But somehow, Kirk managed.   
  
***  
  
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Spock?"  
  
It was the first time Kirk and Spock were alone together since the bond was broken and a small part of Kirk wanted to run. He ignored it and easily slipped into what McCoy jokingly called 'Captain mode', calm, authoritative and 100% professional.  
  
Spock silently handed him a PADD. Kirk read its contents, his brow furrowing increasingly with every line.  
  
"How long has it been like this?" He asked.  
  
"4.3 months," Spock answered without hesitation. The significance of that number was lost on neither of them. 4.3 months ago, they had been leaving Decos Vau. "However, it is only in the past month that the drop in productivity has been quite so dramatic."  
  
Kirk bit his lip. "I’d say the problem is morale.” Spock nodded in agreement. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”  
  
“I suggest you consult Dr. McCoy on the matter," Spock said. "It is, as he would say, 'right up his alley'."  
  
Kirk smiled affectionately at Spock's slightly clumsy pronunciation of the common human saying, before catching himself. "Very well. You take the conn, Mr. Spock, while I go talk with the Doctor."  
  
Spock nodded and left. Kirk looked back at the PADD, cringing a bit. How had this happened on his ship, without his knowledge?  
  
Something had to be done. If only Kirk knew what.  
  
***  
  
Kirk entered McCoy's office and threw Spock's PADD down on the desk. McCoy raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What's this?" He asked.  
  
"It's the performance charts," Kirk explained. "Just take a look at them.  
  
McCoy did. He let out a low whistle. "This is bad."  
  
"You're telling me," Kirk said.  
  
McCoy looked up at his friend. "You do realize why this is happening?" There was no accusation in his voice, but Kirk still felt his gut burn with shame.  
  
"Yeah," Kirk sighed. "How do I fix this?"  
  
"Transfer Spock to a different ship," McCoy suggested.  
  
Kirk shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. We've been through this already."  
  
"What other choice is there? You two don't work as a command team anymore. You haven't for a while. A bad command team affects the entire crew's morale, as you can plainly see. Even Spock's productivity has taken a dive."  
  
Kirk sat down on the desk. He stared down at his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs idly. Spock's performance ratings  _had_ worried him. His main reason for not wanting to transfer Spock before - aside from not wanting to be so far away from him - was fear for his well-being. Whether he liked to admit it or not, Spock had friends among the crew. He considered the  _Enterprise_ his home. To transfer him just for Kirk's peace of mind had seemed cruel.  
  
But it wasn't just Kirk's peace of mind at stake; it was the entire crew's. And Spock's not least of all. Maybe a transfer would be the best for everyone involved. Spock might like to serve on a new ship; he might even want to go back to New Vulcan.  
  
"Aren't there any other possibilities?" Kirk asked anyway.  
  
"Shore leave, maybe. It would be a temporary solution though." McCoy paused. "Or you could tell Spock the truth."  
  
Kirk blinked. "Excuse me?"  
  
"You never did tell him that the aliens gave you another option," McCoy said. He didn’t need to elaborate. "Maybe he'd be interested in knowing."  
  
Kirk scoffed. "I doubt it. Besides, what would he do with the information? We're not going back to Decos Vau any time soon. He's better off this way."  
  
McCoy frowned "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Kirk averted his gaze back to his lap and didn't reply.  
  
The realization dawned on McCoy. "You think you're doing him some kind of favor? That - that loving you is some curse he needed to be freed from?"  
  
"No," Kirk protested but his voice lacked conviction. "That's not... I just think that of everything he could have lost, this wasn't too bad. It doesn't hurt him as much as losing his telepathy would."  
  
"But it's hurting you."  
  
Kirk shrugged wordlessly.  
  
McCoy shook his head. "You don’t possess a single shred of self-preservation, do you, kid?" Kirk shrugged again. "Also, don't you think Spock's suffering too? He just lost his second bondmate in seven years."  
  
"It's better than losing the ability to bond altogether," Kirk said. "Believe me, he's better off this way."  
  
***  
  
Spock shifted in the Captain’s chair, annoyed at having lost himself in his thoughts for the tenth time in as many minutes. He knew his lack of focus could prove disastrous but he found concentration impossible. No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, his thoughts always drifted back to his meeting with the Captain.  
  
Or, more specifically, the Captain’s smile.  
  
Humans were an expressive species and Jim Kirk especially so. To date, Spock had counted no less than sixty-four kinds of smiles the Captain wore on different occasions. That Spock had kept data of them was a source of no small embarrassment to himself now but back then, studying Kirk’s facial expressions was the closest thing Spock got to having a hobby.  
  
There was one smile in particular Spock hadn’t seen in a while, the one the Captain had directed at him today, however briefly, and for some reason Spock could not stop thinking about it.   
  
It was the smile Jim wore whenever Spock said something particularly amusing to him, although it was not at all mocking. It was rather affectionate, in fact. Before, Spock had often purposefully misunderstood human analogies or proverbs in front of Jim to evoke that smile. It filled him with warmth, knowing that he had caused it.  
  
But today, he had felt nothing. No, that was not true. He had felt something, a strong and bitter sense of frustration. Frustration at the fact that something he had once cherished so was now meaningless to him and frustration at himself for wanting beyond all rational thought to feel that familiar warmth again. That frustration had been common for the past four months but never before had it been so strong or so lasting. Spock was still reeling from it and it was ruining his concentration.  
  
Reluctantly, Spock got up. “Mr. Sulu, you have the conn,” he said as calmly as his emotional state allowed. A small quiver still slipped through.   
  
“Yes, sir.” He could hear from the Lieutenant’s voice that he was confused but Spock ignored it. Until the Captain demanded an explanation as to why he would desert his post in the middle of his shift, Spock would not tell anyone his reasons for leaving. It was humiliating enough already.  
  
He walked briskly to the turbolift and as soon as he was inside, he slumped against the wall and closed his eyes. He would not break, he would keep his calm until he had entered his quarters, he would not allow anyone to see his self-control slipping away.   
  
By the time the turbolift reached its destination, Spock once again stood ramrod straight, his face expressionless. The only evidence of his fragile emotional state were his shaking hands, which Spock grasped tightly behind his back as he walked calmly to his quarters.   
  
***  
  
As Kirk was walking the corridors away from Sickbay, fully intending to go to his quarters and work out the next day’s senior staff meeting, his communicator chirped.  
  
“Kirk here,” he said casually, not completely back in professional mode yet after his talk with McCoy.  
  
“Captain,” Uhura greeted. She sounded nervous.   
  
Kirk frowned. “Anything wrong, Lieutenant?”   
  
“Mr. Spock just handed the conn to Lieutenant Sulu and left the bridge,” Uhura told him. “No explanation.” She hesitated. “Jim, he looked very upset. His hands were shaking.”  
  
Kirk came to a halt. He could only think of one other instance in the past when Spock’s emotions had gotten so out of control that his hand started shaking. But that couldn’t be, it had happened less than two years ago and to Kirk’s knowledge, Pon Farr only happened every seven years.   
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Understood, Lieutenant,” Kirk said. “I’ll look into it.”  
  
He closed the communicator and put it away. Then again, Spock was only half Vulcan. His Pon Farr had been over a decade late when it finally happened, who was to say it would go the same way as it did with other Vulcans?  
  
Or maybe this had to do with the bond breaking. But surely Spock would go to McCoy if he really was having that much trouble?  
  
Kirk snorted. Not a chance.   
  
He started walking again, heading resolutely for Spock’s quarters. He’d get an explanation for his First Officer’s strange behavior and force him to go see Doctor McCoy if needed.   
  
***  
  
Spock had only been in his quarters for three minutes when he was interrupted by insistent knocking on his doors. It was barely enough time to gain some surface calm, let alone examine and get rid of the offending emotions causing his distress, so he ignored the Captain (he knew it was the Captain knocking, he had a habit of forgetting to use the buzzer when upset) and hoped against hope that he would go away. He could still feel his irritation and frustration boiling just underneath the surface, waiting for the slightest provocation to let loose again.  
  
When the knocking did not cease but only grew in volume, Spock sighed in surrender and unlocked the door. Immediately, it slid aside to reveal the Captain, looking slightly out of breath but otherwise calm.  
  
“Mr. Spock,” he greeted. “Care to explain why you would leave the bridge in the middle of your shift?”  
  
Spock did not answer. Being so close to Jim again in this wrecked emotional state was bringing back the intense longing he had been suppressing for the past week. “I… apologize,” he managed to mutter.   
  
Jim’s brow furrowed with concern and he stepped closer. “Are you alright?”  
  
Spock unconsciously leaned forward until his Captain was within reaching distance. If he could only initiate a mind meld, the broken bond could be healed within moments. It would be so easy.  
  
“Spock? Do you need to see Dr. McCoy?”  
  
Spock shook his head distractedly in reply and reached out his hand. Jim watched it, his face displaying a thousand conflicting emotions. He swallowed.  
  
“Spock?”   
  
Spock laid his hand on the side of Kirk’s face but his fingers did not fall into the familiar position. Something was holding him back, the slightest shred of rationality still left that told him that perhaps Jim did not wish to be bonded to him again.  
  
Instead, Spock leaned in and closed the distance between them completely with a tender, soft-as-a-whisper kiss. Kirk made a small pained noise and pulled away.  
  
“Spock, please don’t,” he pleaded, his mouth still close enough so that Spock could feel his breath against his lips. He ignored the request and kissed Jim again, slightly harder and more demanding.   
  
He still felt nothing.  
  
Frustrated, Spock grabbed Kirk’s shirt roughly and pulled him even closer. This time, Jim did not pull away but neither did he respond to the kiss. He just stood there, as if waiting for Spock to be done with him. The Vulcan growled quietly, his irritation flaring up again. It was almost physically painful, how much he wanted to feel something. He could recall perfectly the desire and the affection but he could impossibly access them again.  
  
Finally, Spock broke the kiss. It was useless. Jim let out a shuddering breath and it was first then that Spock noticed his cheeks were wet.  
  
“Jim…” he whispered but he knew nothing he could say would be good enough an apology for his actions.  
  
“Please don’t do this again,” Jim said quietly as he pulled further away from Spock. “I can’t handle it.”  
  
He walked away and Spock was left standing alone in his quarters, his gut churning with frustration, shame and desire.   
  
***  
  
“You’re joking.”  
  
Kirk had left Spock’s quarters and gone immediately back to his own, still teary-eyed and shaking, when he got a call from Admiral Pike, regarding his next mission. Kirk had accepted the call, certain that it would provide him some much needed distraction.  
  
Instead, he had gotten the worst news possible.  
  
They were returning to Decos Vau.  
  
“I’m afraid not,” Pike sighed. He looked genuinely sorry to be in this situation. “We need a base in that area and we have no idea of knowing whether anyone has any sort of claim on the rest of the planets in the system. And after what happened with the  _Enterprise_ , we don’t want to risk going in unprepared.”  
  
“So why are you sending us back there?” Kirk asked.   
  
“You’ve talked with the aliens before,” Pike explained. “They recognize you, the chances of them trying to assassinate you on sight are considerably less because of that.”  
  
“Right.” Kirk pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sure.”  
  
“Are you agreeing to the mission?”  
  
“What choice do I have?” The question was rhetorical. Kirk knew full well he had no other choice, unless he wanted to seriously piss Starfleet off. There were still some fairly influential people there that carried a grudge against him since back when he was a rowdy cadet. It was petty, really.  
  
Pike looked apologetic. “I’ll send you the details tonight, then.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
And then he was gone. Kirk sighed and slumped in his chair. Why this? Why now, on top of everything else? He couldn’t deal with it but then as he'd said, what choice did he have? He’d just have to power through, like always.  
  
Kirk rubbed his forehead warily. He knew he should probably be pissed off or at least indignant or  _something_. But he wasn’t. He just felt tired.  
  
***  
  
Spock stared at the Captain. Jim had been avoiding his eyes ever since he had entered the conference room but since delivering the news of their next mission, he seemed to be ignoring Spock’s existence altogether.   
  
Beside him, Spock could hear McCoy protest loudly and further to the right, Mr. Scott could be heard agreeing fervently with the Doctor. Jim allowed them to finish their speech and then held up his hand to silence the room.  
  
“We have no choice in the matter,” he said. “Starfleet  _needs_ a base in that system and whether we like it or not, we’re the best candidates to negotiate with the aliens to whom it may or may not belong.”  
  
That sparked further protest but Spock stayed quiet. While his fellow crew members raged with righteous indignation, Spock could only feel one thing.  
  
Hope.


	10. Chapter 10

**Part 10**  
  
Three days after Kirk’s announcement of their new mission, Spock approached him in his quarters. They were then within two days’ distance of Decos Vau.  
  
“What do you want, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked. He could feel his feet twitching to run away, but he pushed the urge down. What kind of a Captain would he be if he couldn’t even hold a decent, work-related conversation with his First Officer? Besides, they were in his quarters. Where was he going to run?  
  
“I have just finished reading your briefing on the Decos Vau mission,” Spock said. “Am I to understand that you intend to beam down to the planet alone?”  
  
“You are,” Kirk replied.  
  
Spock raised an eyebrow. “If you do not mind my saying so, it seems like an unwise decision. Sir,” he added, lest he seem mutinous. “The aliens that inhabit Decos Vau have proved hostile before. As the most important person on the ship, it is not a good tactical choice to put you in a dangerous situation by yourself.”  
  
“I’m the only person who’s actually spoken to them,” Kirk reasoned. “And if I go down by myself, they’re less likely to interpret it as an attack.”   
  
Of course, there was also the hidden motive of begging the aliens to change their deal. Kirk would rather none of his crew witnessed that.  
  
“It is still dangerous,” Spock argued. “You will be utterly defenseless. Please, allow me to beam down with you.”  
  
“No,” Kirk replied instantly. “You’re not going back there.”   
  
“Captain-”  
  
“No!” Kirk repeated, his voice rising. “You almost got killed last time, there’s no way I’m putting you in that kind of danger again. I know you seem to have a hard time remembering it, but I still love you. I’m not letting you beam down, knowing the risk.”  
  
Spock bristled a little but he didn’t argue back, his shame probably subduing him.   
  
“I will keep in constant contact with the ship,” Kirk said. “If something goes wrong, you’ll know about it.”  
  
Provided the signal didn’t get jammed like last time.  
  
***  
  
Spock stalked down the corridor, his face impassive as always despite his internal conflict. When he first heard they would be returning to Decos Vau, he had felt hope. This could be his chance to regain what he had lost there.   
  
But the Captain’s unwavering decision to beam down by himself put a stop to those plans. Spock could not tell him of his intentions, he had already toyed with Jim’s feelings enough, but how else was he meant to convince the Captain that his presence on the planet was needed?  
  
“Well, don’t you look cheerful.”  
  
Spock came to a stop and all but glared at the Doctor. “Vulcans are never ‘cheerful’.”  
  
“You’ve got that right,” McCoy muttered. “So why the long face? And don’t you dare,” he added when Spock opened his mouth to reply. “You know damn well I don't mean that literally.”  
  
“I do not wish to discuss it,” Spock said dismissively.  
  
“Is this about the mission?” McCoy guessed.   
  
“I refer to my previous statement.”  
  
McCoy snorted. “Look, none of us like having to go back to that Godforsaken planet. Just thank your lucky stars Jim doesn’t plan on including you in the landing party.” He paused. “He doesn’t, does he? Because he told me-”  
  
“You were informed correctly,” Spock cut in. “The Captain does not intend on allowing me to beam down to Decos Vau.”  
  
“Well, there you go. You don’t even have to go near the damn planet.”  
  
Spock hesitated. Doctor McCoy was the Captain’s best friend, but he had also been present for one of the most difficult nights of Spock’s life. He understood Spock’s position better than most would. “That is precisely the problem.”  
  
“Come again?”   
  
“I wish to go back to the planet’s surface,” Spock explained, “and speak to the aliens.”  
  
“Why?” McCoy asked, bewildered.  
  
“To gain back what I lost,” Spock answered.  
  
McCoy eyed Spock suspiciously. “You… but you’ve already broken your bond with Jim.”  
  
“You consider this a bad idea,” Spock stated, slightly disappointed. He did not know why he had been hoping for the Doctor’s support  
  
“Well…” McCoy seemed to be looking for the right words. “It’s unexpected.”  
  
Spock wanted to ask why but in a way, he could understand McCoy’s surprise. Since their first visit to Decos Vau, he had shown nothing for the Captain but blatant apathy.   
  
“Are you serious about this?”   
  
Spock raised an eyebrow, as if to say ‘aren’t I always?’ McCoy rolled his eyes.  
  
“Are you thinking about this clearly?” He amended. “Are you even capable of it right now, with everything that’s been going on?”  
  
Spock hesitated as he considered the Doctor’s inquiry. His mental state was unquestionably delicate and it was not unreasonable to think that that might influence his decisions. But the intense desire he had experienced in the past few days was nothing new. It had been muted before but present all the same.   
  
“I am,” Spock finally replied, only marginally less honest than he would have liked. “Believe me Doctor, this is not a decision I take lightly.”  
  
McCoy did not seem satisfied. “You realize then, that you’d have to make some sort of sacrifice.”  
  
“I expect I will,” Spock said.  
  
“And you’re alright with that?”   
  
Spock considered it briefly. “I cannot say for certain, as I do not know what that sacrifice may be.”  
  
McCoy regarded him with an unreadable expression. Spock had to admit that it was slightly disconcerting, as the Doctor was prone to ‘wearing his heart on his sleeve’, as the human idiom went.  
  
“I know,” McCoy admitted.   
  
It took Spock a moment to realize his meaning. Once he did, he felt inexplicably betrayed. “Explain,” he demanded.  
  
“What exactly did Jim tell you about the deal he made with the aliens?” McCoy asked. “Did he tell you that it was nonnegotiable? That the aliens didn’t want anything you two had to offer except what they ended up taking?” Spock nodded silently, no longer trusting himself to speak. “Well, he lied.”  
  
 _“And they wanted nothing else instead?”  
  
“No, nothing.”_  
  
Spock’s mind reeled. This unexpected piece of information threw every event of the past four months out of perspective. A multitude of questions flickered through his mind, but one stood out. “Why?”  
  
“To protect you,” McCoy said. “He figured that if you found out what else the aliens wanted, you’d trade it in out of guilt.”  
  
“What-”  
  
But Spock did not get a chance to finish his question. At that moment, the Captain came walking down the hallway along with Mr. Scott.  
  
“Bones!” Kirk exclaimed when he spotted the Doctor. “We were just on our way to lunch. Want to join us?” Spock noted that this invitation was not extended to him. The Captain still found it difficult to be around Spock off-shift and as of a few moments ago, Spock could say the same.  
  
McCoy shot Spock an apologetic look and went to join his two fellow officers. Spock only inclined his head and walked off in the opposite direction, ignoring the sense of betrayal that welled up in him again at the sight of his Captain.   
  
***  
  
The next two days passed without so much as one word from Doctor McCoy. Spock considered seeking him out but he realized McCoy had chosen to ignore him for a reason. Undoubtedly he felt he had let down the Captain by telling Spock as much as he had and did not wish to further the infraction. Spock had to respect that, however grudgingly. He had no intention of wringing the information he wanted out of the unwilling doctor, not when he could get it from the aliens of Decos Vau when he next met them.  
  
Despite the discovery of Kirk's lies, Spock's goals had not changed. Kirk may have hidden the truth from him but he had done so with the best of intentions in mind and Spock could not conceive of throwing away both their chances at happiness over a simple grudge. That sense of betrayal lingered but it paled in comparison to the desire Spock still harbored for Kirk and probably always would as long as they were still stationed on the same ship.  
  
But the fact still remained that Kirk intended to beam down to Decos Vau by himself. Spock attempted several times to change his mind, arguing with the Captain and citing regulation, but Kirk would not budge. When the day of the mission arrived, Spock was forced to admit defeat. Officially, he was to take no part in the mission other than stay on the ship and command it in the Captain's absence.  
  
But unofficially...  
  
Spock lived by rules and regulation. However, there were situations where even he knew victory could not be achieved without bending them a little. While he had never directly disobeyed the Captain's orders before, Spock considered this a more than worthy cause.  
  
It briefly occurred to him that perhaps his emotions were influencing his decision more than he had realized before. He pushed the thought out of his mind before he could dwell on it. Now was not the time for uncertainty.  
  
Spock stood in the transporter room along with Mr. Scott, the Captain and Doctor McCoy, who had not, judging by his furious complaints, been informed that this was a solo mission.  
  
"Don't expect me to patch you up when you come back in pieces," the Doctor grumbled.  
  
The Captain ignored him and took his position on the pad. "Energize, Mr. Scott."  
  
"Aye, Cap'n."  
  
Spock watched his Captain disappear in a swirl of white lights. He was to reappear in the same area where he had last left the planet over four months prior. Hopefully above ground. He would then be beamed back to the ship from the same location in one hour, provided everything went according to plan.   
  
"Mr. Scott," Spock said, breaking the silence that had settled in the transporter room and making both humans jump. "You may return to your usual duties. I will stay here and monitor the Captain's whereabouts."  
  
Mr. Scott looked slightly confused but he left nevertheless. He had never had reason to question Spock's orders before and would not begin to do so now.   
  
Spock glanced at McCoy, who had his arms crossed and was regarding Spock with some suspicion. "I believe you are needed back in Sickbay, Doctor."  
  
"M'Benga can cover for me," McCoy said. "What are you planning on doing that requires so much privacy?" He paused, as something occurred to him. "You're not thinking of following Jim down to that planet, are you?"  
  
"It does not concern you," Spock said, hoping against hope that the Doctor would leave without further questioning.  
  
"The hell it doesn't!" McCoy exclaimed. "I haven't called you in for a physical yet because I wanted to give you space to heal on your own terms but this has gone on for long enough. You're letting your emotions get in the way of your duties. As soon as this mission's over, I'm putting you on medical leave so you can go-"  
  
"Please."  
  
"-talk to a professional healer and what did you just say?"  
  
Spock closed his eyes briefly, before reopening them and locking them with the Doctor's. "For four months I have felt incomplete," he said, "as if the better half of my soul were missing. Now is my opportunity to regain it Please, allow me to try."  
  
Very rarely had Spock ever been reduced to begging before and always in a life-or-death situation. This blatant emotionalism was rarer still and a true testament to his determination. McCoy seemed to realize this. After a few long moments of gaping wordlessly at Spock, he ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh of defeat.  
  
"Just... try to be back on the ship before Jim?" He said.  
  
Spock allow himself to feel relief for 0.8 seconds and nodded gratefully at the Doctor, before turning back to the transporter's controller board and punching in new coordinates, 5 kilometers away from where the Captain had been beamed.   
  
Once he had fulfilled that task, Spock took his position on the pad. "Doctor, if you will."  
  
The last thing he saw before white lights swallowed him whole and obscured his vision was Doctor McCoy's worried expression.  
  
***  
  
Decos Vau was as unpleasant as Spock remembered it to be. The air was dry and cool, his surroundings barren. Not for the first time, Spock wondered what it was about this planet that made it worth killing for.   
  
His musings came to a short stop when he spotted a humanoid alien walking his way. He looked male, circa 190 centimeters tall and with skin so pale, it almost appeared translucent. He was wearing an odd garment that resembled a ceremonial robe, whipping around his long legs as he strove towards Spock.  
  
"You are quite off base, Vulcan," the alien said in a pleasant tone of voice as he came closer. "Your Captain is a few kilometers north."  
  
Spock wondered briefly how this supposedly unknown alien race knew of the Federation's standard measurements but he pushed the issue aside for another time. "It is intentional. I am here against my Captain's wishes."  
  
The humanoid raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I had been wondering at your Federation's wisdom, to send not one, but two of their representatives back to our planet, when we had explicitly ordered you to stay away."  
  
Spock regarded the alien. He did not seem angered but then, appearances could be deceiving. "Do you intend to kill us for trespassing?" He asked calmly.  
  
"No," the alien replied with a wave of his hand. "We know that we may have been overly hostile during your last visit. If we had taken the time to read you a bit better we would have realized sooner that you have no ill intentions."  
  
"Indeed." Spock fought the urge to fidget, feeling uneasy to be around a being that could sense his thoughts. "Then you know why I am here."  
  
"I do," the alien confirmed. "And I must say, it is very admirable of you. But I am afraid that you have come in vain."  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
Without warning, Spock was transported along with the nameless alien to an underground cavern. Looking around, Spock could see no exit. The cavern was filled to the ceiling with floating glass spheres, each sphere containing a ball of light, varying in size but all shining brightly.   
  
"Quite a collection, isn't it?" The alien asked proudly. "We have been gathering these from various alien races for over a hundred years." He pointed at a sphere hovering just above ground, holding a bright red ball of light that twitched erratically. "This one was particularly difficult to obtain. A Klingon warrior's spirit." At the slight widening of Spock's eyes, the alien quickly reassured him; "Oh, don't worry, it's not his soul. Just his... well, temperament, I guess you could say."  
  
They walked to the other end of the cavern, to a large, isolated sphere. It contained a small, flickering light. Spock suddenly felt a strong urge to reach out and break the glass ball.   
  
"This is your love for your bondmate," the alien explained. "When we first removed it from you, it was the crowning jewel in our collection. The glass sphere could hardly contain it, it was so big, so bright." He sighed. "What a disappointment it was when it started to dim already the next day. At this rate, it'll be gone within the week. It's long since damaged beyond repair."  
  
Spock reached out one hand and laid it on the sphere. It was warm to the touch. "Are you certain of this?"  
  
The alien frowned. "Of course we are. We've done everything in our power to stop its decline but it just keeps getting worse and worse."  
  
"It is pure emotion," Spock said. "It is not like your warrior's spirit, without the chance to expand and evolve, it will become stagnant and die."  
  
The alien considered his words. "How do we make it expand and evolve then?"  
  
"You cannot. It does not belong to you."   
  
There was a long silence, during which Spock contemplated his chance at success, were he to burst the glass sphere and contact the ship as quickly as he could.   
  
"So you are suggesting that we must give it back to you, in order for it to grow?" The alien finally asked.  
  
"I am," Spock answered.  
  
"But then we won't be able to enjoy it!"  
  
Spock stared at the petulant alien, a mounting frustration building in his chest. This being's temperament was impossible to understand, switching between that of a reasonable adult and a selfish child. "Is it still not the better alternative to letting it die?"  
  
"I suppose so," the alien agreed reluctantly. "But that still leaves us empty-handed."  
  
"What would you like in return?" Spock asked, regretting his words as soon as he saw the satisfied smirk on the alien's face. He had been tricked.  
  
"The same thing we requested from your Captain the last time," the alien declared. "Your telepathy."  
  
Spock all but felt the blood freeze in his veins. His first, instinctual response was to call off the deal. His telepathy was invaluable to him. Without it he would be worthless as a Vulcan. The alien might as well have asked him for his ears or his eyes.  
  
"Well?"  
  
If he did not give up his telepathy, he would never be able to love Jim again. But was that ability really worth the sacrifice demanded of him?  
  
There was no question about it.  
  
"I accept your offer."  
  
The alien's smirk widened. "Excellent."  
  
With a snap of his finger, the glass sphere boiled and melted; leaving a small, foul smelling puddle on the ground. The light inside remained undamaged.  
  
"Go ahead," the alien urged. "As soon as you touch it, it will be reabsorbed and your telepathy will take its place in my collection."   
  
Spock reached out without hesitation and closed his fist around the small ball of light. For one moment he could feel its warmth infusing him, racing up his arm and spreading around his body and then... nothing.  
  
Before Spock could accuse the alien of swindling him, he was struck with the odd sensation of his very self being sucked away from him. He could see the bright, white light exiting his gaping mouth and no matter how hard he tried, he could not close it.  
  
As soon as this was over, Spock fell to the cavern floor, drained in every way. The world around him was clouded, every sound muted and every color dulled. His own body felt strange to him. "You-"  
  
"Our transaction is complete," the alien said pleasantly. "I will now return you to the surface."  
  
Spock could say nothing as his surroundings faded away. All he could think was that he had just made a horrible mistake.   
  
***  
  
"There he is!"  
  
Scotty's exclamation rang around the transporter room and Kirk and McCoy immediately ran up to the controller board to see for themselves.  
  
Upon arriving on Decos Vau, Kirk had almost immediately been met by the aliens. They had been considerably nicer than last time (they didn't even try to kill him!), although one of them had disappeared pretty quickly and without explanation. The remaining alien had informed Kirk that the rest of the planets in the system were in fact uninhabited and that Starfleet was free to build has many bases as they pleased on them.   
  
Their meeting had wrapped up quickly after that and Kirk had been able to return to the  _Enterprise_  much sooner than anticipated.   
  
He had been surprised to find McCoy in the transporter room rather than Scotty and after a little persuading, the Doctor had told him everything.  
  
Kirk was furious, until he found out that Spock's signal had disappeared half an hour ago. Then he had been both furious and worried beyond belief.  
  
Now, ten minutes later, Kirk could not describe his relief at Scotty's excited exclamation. Even though a small part of him realized that he would have to seriously discipline Spock after this, all he could muster up right now was happiness that the Vulcan had been found again.   
  
"Beam him aboard."  
  
***  
  
Spock had no sooner materialized on the planet's surface than a familiar tingling set in, signaling that he was about to be beamed aboard the  _Enterprise_. He appeared in the transporter room, still huddled on the ground, his entire body shaking minutely. He felt horrible, his gut churning with regret and shame at having been taken for a fool.  
  
"Spock!"  
  
Reluctantly, Spock looked up and met the Captain's blue eyes with his own. HIs heart stuttered.  
  
All at once, his regret melted away as his body was once again infused with the warmth from before, only a hundred times stronger.   
  
"Jim," he breathed, with as much love and adoration in his voice as ever before.   
  
He stumbled clumsily to his feet and all but fell into Jim's open embrace.   
  
Jim's breath hitched. "Spock, what-"  
  
Spock silenced him with a desperate kiss. This time there was no hesitation on Jim's half; he responded eagerly, his arms tightening their hold on Spock's waist. A thousand glorious emotions rushed through Spock and he ran his hands through Jim's golden hair, doing everything he could to increase the contact between them.  
  
They broke apart and Jim stared disbelievingly into Spock's eyes. "How?"  
  
"I made another trade with the inhabitants of Decos Vau," Spock told him.   
  
Jim's eyes widened with realization. "Spock, you didn't..."  
  
"It does not matter," Spock said. "I consider it worth the sacrifice."  
  
Jim looked like he wanted to argue with that statement, so Spock kissed him again, hoping to convey how well and truly he meant it. The world was still clouded, every sound muted and every color dulled, he still felt like a stranger in his own body, but none of it mattered. Jim was still as clear as ever before, he still shone just as brilliantly. Spock had no doubt that whatever difficulties he would run into in the years to come, he would never regret his decision.  
  
THE END


End file.
